Meet Spider-man
by EmGee09
Summary: First it seems to be a simple encounter, even if HE was a guy in a skintight red and blue suit. But then it becomes more. Darker and stronger as time goes by. But even if she had the possibility, Emma wouldn't change anything in what happened to her. / Imagine Peter as Andrew Garfield ;) I do not own anything of Spider-man - sadly ! Peter Parker/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone ! Here's a little thing I wrote for fun ! :) Hope you'll enjoy it, there must be mistakes **_[I hope not too much but...] _**sorry about it, I'm not bilingual yet and this is the first time I ever try to write in English so... If you catch some unforgivable ones, just tell me and I'll fix them ! :)**_  
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**Hope you'll like it ! :)**

**PS : if you want more of it, just tell me and I'd see what I could do ! :)**

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_Meet Spider-man_

Once upon a time, there was a castle. In that castle lived – obviously – a Princess. A Princess named Emma.

_Come on, are you kidding ?! Emma's not a Princess' name, let's say, hm, Rosalind ? Or Blanche-Neige ! I've heard this is the way French people calls Snow White. Blanche-Neige. I love the sound of these words, what do you think about it ?_

A Princess called Blanche-Neige, then. Blanche-Neige was as young and beautiful as a Princess could be, but she had something else, something that not any other princess had : she was curious. Terribly, shockingly curious. She wanted to see how the real world was. So one day, she decided to leave her castle. She let a little note for her parents and she went away. She walked and walked and walked until she arrived at the entrance of the real world, and then...

And then her bus arrives !

And then she realizes her stupidity as she sees that it isn't – for the hundredth time, actually – _her_ bus.

_Whoa, what an amazing story, tell me more about it !_

I sit on the sidewalk, feeling so discouraged that I don't even try to tell that little voice that always comes to my thoughts to shut up once for all. It may seem quite awkward, but this is actually true. Whenever a stupid thing comes through my mind, there's that little voice who says something wide and ironical, and it makes me feel so stupid that I eventually stop thinking about whatever I was thinking about.

But today's different. Today, I'm alone, lost in that gigantic city I don't know, and there's nothing that could stop me thinking those stupid things about a princess, even the little voice. Because, if I don't try to create that story in my head about that unknown lucky curious princess, I'll sooner or later be scared to death.

This is the first time I actually come into New York City. I've always dreamed to see it, but now that I am here, waiting for that _stupid_ bus that's not coming, I'm not as cheerful about it as I used to be. I don't understand. Why are those kind of things always happening to _me_ ? What have I done to God to deserve that stupid life of mine ?

"The Princess", I think desperately. "Focus. On. The. Princess."

Blanche-Neige. What a nice name. I wish I could have the same. It would be quite strange to presenting myself, but anyway, I would love it. That's much better than _Emma_. Everyone's name's Emma. I don't pretend to know why. People maybe doesn't have much imagination and gives their children the first name that comes into their mind. What a stupid thing. Emma and Jack – that's my brother's name, obviously. My parents really didn't have much imagination for that.

If my name hasn't been Emma, would the bus have come sooner ?

_Obviously not, precious._

The little voice sounds too much like Gollum's one and I immediately feel crazy and scary. Am I a lunatic ? This could be possible, of course. I've heard that at least one person upon five was...

But suddenly, something falls next to me and I jump to my feet, scared as death. I would eventually love to run away as fast as my legs could bear me, but I'm too choked to do anything.

Because the something that has fallen right in front of me is a man.

Not an usual man, I mean. He's wearing something that looks like a spandex costume, and also has a mask covering his face. Through the light of the lamp post, I see he is all in blue and red. I've heard before that there were... strange people in New York, but never ever have I thought it would be that obvious. And odd. And scary. And I do recognize that from now on, I am totally, absolutely frightened.

The man is moving – well, I _guess_ that's a man. I stay petrified for a second while he tries to stand up, then I realize I certainly look stupid watching him like that and I take a step, asking with an awkward voice :

"You OK ?" He raises his head, and I know he is staring at me, and even though I can't see his eyes because of his mask, I feel quite nervous about it. And I don't know why. Maybe because this is the strangest thing that ever happened to me in seventeen years of existence. "You... do you need some help ?"

He shrugs and for a moment, I feel so stupid that I look away from him, pretending to watch intensively, as if they were the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, my shoes. Then the guy finally stands up and I meet his eyes again – well, what I guess were his eyes, at least.

_That guy just fells of the sky !_

The little voice cries inside of me, but I decide to ignore it.

It may be stupid, but he really looks intimidating, in that ridiculous red and blue suit. He is tall – but I've always been sadly little – and he's staring at me in silence for a while, before saying :

"You should not stay here." His voice is strange, just as if he was forcing himself to sound older.

"I'm waiting for my bus", I mutter, stupidly.

"Well, you really should wait for it from somewhere else. Let's see, I've an idea..." There's a hint of laughter in his voice that makes me blush harder than ever, but I have no time to think about it.

Because suddenly, I'm swinging in the air, my arms around his shoulders, and I see the ground rolling away from me really, really fast. The cry that I really, really want to let go doesn't even pass the wall of my lips. I feel like I'm going to throw up, but then my feet hurt the ground and I fell on my knees, chocked. The guy immediately kneels beside me.

"You OK ?" I vaguely recognize my own words, and he says them with an anxious voice that makes my stomach falling into my heels. "Sorry, I didn't think you... well, I should have warned you, are you alright ?" He waits me to nod before continuing. "OK, wait here until I... well, until I finish my own business, then I'll come back and bring you back wherever you live, OK ? I promise I'll come back, don't worry. Just let me... settle everything, and then, I'll be back."

It reminds me of a movie – even though I don't know which one – and I can't help feeling scared about it. But then he touches my cheek and everything disappears. I imagine he is smiling behind his mask and I give him back his smile, trying to look as brave as I can when saying :

"OK, see you then."

"Good." he nods, and then jumps of the building top.

_This guy just jumps of the..._

"Shut up", I think, and the little voice immediately does. It makes me feel stupidly happy and I stand up, approaching the edge of the roof I've landed on. It's not a building that high, but I can't help thinking that it's the first time I've ever been in that kind of situation, alone on a rooftop of a building I don't even know. I'm not sure if it's better or not of being alone on a sidewalk. I don't know if there's many people who strolls on roofs. Maybe. And maybe not.

I have at least one example that proves that there _is_ people who walks on the top of New York's buildings. One example that just fly me right in one roof. One example that wears spandex and may have my age – or at least a young voice. One example that is actually swinging between two buildings. I watch him until he disappears behind one of them. Choked. Dazed. Stunned. How is he doing that ? He seems to use something that looks like cable, but I'm not sure. And he's really fast. Really, really fast. I can't help wondering if he'd ever come back. But he's promised. And something tells me that he is one of keeping his promises.

I've never been driven home by a guy. But I don't know if _that_ could count as a drive-me-back-home trip. Well, this is really something stupid to wonder. I shouldn't be that convinced that he'll come back. Because, well, I don't even know him ! Who is he ? I really should have asked him. Oh boy, what would he have answered ? "_I'm a nice guy who drives back ladies home !_" Hah, this is quite stupid.

Two lights suddenly catch my attention, down the building, and I wince. It's my bus ! Perfect. I've missed the last one. Just. Perfect. If that crazy spandex guy doesn't come back, what would I be supposed to do ? Perfect.

Then I rise my head and something more, more awful catches my attention.

The guy's back. And with him, a squad of NYPD' cars. And they are shooting at him. Shooting. At. Him.

I feel quite stupid when I realize how worried I am about him. As I hide behind the edge of the building, I wonder since when I care that much about a guy I don't even know. And there's no rational answer. I should feel betrayed. I should feel scared for myself. But I definitely should not feel worry about _him_. Because he might be the villain. Because I don't know what he is doing wandering that late around here. Because I don't know what on earth he would do when he comes back. _If_ he comes back at all.

But no, I still feel worried about him. What if he is wounded and falls of the cable he is swinging on ? What if the police catches him ? What if he dies ? I'd be stuck on that rooftop for the rest of the night, that's for sure, but I really don't care. I don't want him to get caught. Because I know he is not the villain, because I know he would not do anything to me if he comes back. Because I trust him. It's as simple as that.

I don't know how many time I stay like that, curled up on the floor. All I know is that I'm deadly cold, and worried, and scared. I can hear the police sirens faraway – or at least I think they're faraway – and occasionally, gunshots. Maybe I fall asleep, or maybe not. All I know is that suddenly, someone is right next to me and is shaking my shoulders.

I sit up straight and catch brown eyes staring at me. I frown and the guy does too, with a cringe. His face is a mask of anxiousness, his hairs a real mess, and there's a bruise on his left cheek. He looks like those guys people always calls "nerds", in every high school of the US. Still, he is quite cute, I must admit it. But I can't help feeling a bit cramped under those deep brown eyes. And I don't know why. He stares at me for a while, then asks softly, shyly :

"Why are you still here ?"

"Waiting for someone" I say, frowning, not sure if he really said "_still_", or not. "Why ? Is that _your_ roof ?"

"No, no of course not ! I was just... surprised, I – well, there's not many girls on that roof, usually." He seems uncomfortable and for an unknown reason, it makes me feel a bit annoyed. "I didn't thought you... You said you were waiting for someone ? Who ?"

I hesitate one second before responding. "A... friend of mine."

"Oh yeah ?"

"Hm, hm." If I hadn't met a guy in a spandex uniform just a few times ago, I would have thought this was the strangest thing that ever happened to me. The guy's still staring at me, and I'm starting feeling uncomfortable too, now. "What are you doing here, anyway ?"

"Nothing important." He answers, shaking his head. "What if your... friend doesn't come ?"

My mouth stays wide open for a while as I stare at him, choked. "Of course he'll come ! He promised." I exclaim. Then I realize how stupid this is, but it's too late, I've said it.

The guy smiles, and I don't understand why, but before I even think of asking him the reason of that strange, tender, amused smile, he says : "OK then, have a nice night."

And he leaves. I watch him disappeared down the fire stairs, and I consider really seriously to follow him. Because, well, I don't think he is a bad guy. He seems to be a bit noodle, but at least kind. I really don't think he would do something to me. And anyway, I can fight. My grand-dad taught me when I was little. He is tall, yes, but I think I can handle a fight against him. I really do. And I don't want to stay alone, waiting for a ridiculous swinging man I don't even know. At least I'm sure that guy's around my age and that he's as normal as a boy can be. Or seems.

But before I make any permanent decision, the spandex guy's back. He falls from the sky – _again_ – right next beside me and I jump, a bit frightened, I must admit it.

"Why are you _always_ doing that ?" I can't help my voice sounding irked, and at the same time relieved.

"Sorry Miss !" I can hear his smile in his voice, even though he's still wearing his mask. "So, where are we going ?" But I have no time to answer anything. Because suddenly, he staggers, his hands tightened on his left arm. I let out a little cry and help him stand, scared to death as I realize how much he is trembling.

"You OK ?"

He laughs, a little laugh that looks more like a groan than a laugh. "Sure, I've just, I – don't worry, it's nothing. Nothing important." He takes a step back, considering me. "So, where to, Miss ?"

"I – wait, no, you can't, you can't take me home when you're like... God damn it, you're hurt ! What happens ? Does the police..."

"I'm OK !" He assures, and his voice is at a same time annoyed and amused.

But I move toward him, frowning. "No, of course you're not. Let me see that. My dad's a doctor."

"I don't think it's..." He starts, but I don't let him finish. I grab his hand and force him to turn. I take a closer look to his arm and my heart falls in my chest. It's little, but it's deep. Gunshot, there's no doubt of it. The bullet has only got through the biceps, ripping the spandex, which is a good thing, I think. "See ? That's nothing. Just a scratch."

"A scratch ?! No, that's not a scratch, that's a gunshot wound !" Now I'm really angry, for an unknown reason. Perhaps because of the way he minimizes the thing. Or perhaps because I'm scared to see a wound like this one. My dad's a doctor, that's true, but he only taught me how to heal a cold and an angina – stuff like that. Perhaps because I have no idea what to do. Perhaps I'm worried about him.

"Well, that's not my first one, if you know what I..."

"No, I don't know what you mean." I interrupt him angrily. I catch my bag and start searching in it, wondering if I have anything that could be used as a bandage. "Does that mean that you spend your time fleeing the police ? What are you, a thief ?"

"No ! No I'm not a..."

"Then what are you ?" I see him opening his mouth but I really don't want to hear what he has to say. From now on, the only thing that's important is to take care of that injury. "OK, don't move now." I've found something. An old cloth handkerchief which was my grandma's – I've never used it, of course. It will do. I tie it around his arm. To stop the bleeding. He winces. I can't help freezing when I see my hands are covered in blood. "There. Better like that."

"Thanks." He seems surprised as he watches his arm and moves it carefully. Then we stay quiet for a moment, staring at one another. I wonder what he looks like without his mask. I wonder what's his name. I wonder who he is. But I don't ask. Without knowing why. "We should go."

"Are you sure you..."

"Absolutely" He cuts me and I can't help smiling. "With that amazing bandage you've done, anyway..." I grumble him not to lie and he laughs. "So, where do you live ?"

"Scottsdale, Arizona." The words come from their own. I immediately blush, and imagine that he raises an eyebrow, behind his mask. Then he bursts of laugh. "No ! No, that's not, no ! Oh boy, forget about that." He's still laughing when I give him the address of my aunt and uncle. "Enough now !" I'm a bit vexed, I must admit it.

"Sorry." He says, recovering his serious for a while. "You're on holiday in NYC ?"

"Yes. With my brother."

"Where is he ?"

"Don't really know. He has his life, I've mine."

"Why didn't you call him when you missed your bus ?"

"Well, I forgot my phone at my aunt's so..." I make a face and he laughs again. He only stops when I take a step away, feeling quite furious to see a guy in a ridiculous red and blue spandex suit laughing at me.

"Sorry." He says again, and I know he is still smiling behind his mask. I have no time to think of something to say. He suddenly grabs me by my waist and my heart misses a beat. "Ready ?"

I take a deep inspiration and nod. "Ready."

Fifteen minutes later, my feet reach the sidewalk right in front of my aunt and uncle's house. I almost fell and the spandex guy catches me with a soft laugh. I pretend to sigh, but there's a smile on my face, I know it. I take a look around, trying to recover from our strange trip in the air. This was definitely the coolest thing I've ever done in my entire life. It's almost like flying. I can't find the words to describe it. I should try, but now I've something else in mind.

"Thanks." I say to the guy, with a smile that I hope best describes what I feel. "A lot."

"Pleasure." He says, and I know he is smiling, too. "Next time, try to catch that bus."

"We'll see !"

We stay quiet for a moment, and I have the time to wish thousands of time he takes off his mask, but he doesn't. "I should go." He says after a while.

"Sure." I don't want him to go, but what can I do ? Ask him to stay ? That would be ridiculous. He takes a step back and I can't help feeling sad. I don't really know why. Or at least, not yet. I grab his hand, surprising him as much as myself, and kiss him on the cheek – well, I guess it's where his cheek is, but with his mask, there's no way to be at hundred percent sure. "Before you go... Who are you exactly ?"

Again I can hear his smile in his voice. "I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider-man !"

Then he shots one of his cable and flies away.

And this is how I fell in love with Spider-man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey hey !**

**OK, here I am, with a new chapter ! Some of you ask for more and, well, I must admit I just love to write in English so, here it is ! :) **

**If there's any really, really and thousands times really bad mistakes, please tell me ! :) And tell me also if you like it :D**

**Enjoy !**

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_Meet Spider-man_

"Emma !"

I open one eye, feeling so sleepy that it surely is the most difficult thing I've ever done in my entire life. I blink, one, two, three times, and try to reconnect my brain to the reality and escape the strange dream I've been into. Something about a spandex guy, a building roof and a trip in the air.

I roll over and take a look at the alarm clock. It takes me a few minutes to register what I'm reading. And then I jump off of my sheets, panic running through me. I stumble on my suitcase, swear, almost collapse on the door while trying to open it. At the very moment I finally manage to, my Aunt – she's my dad's sister, and if there were a competition to elect the greatest aunt ever, she'd probably win it without any contest – restarts to knock on it and to scream :

"Emma, are you in – Oh !"

"Hey !" I say, almost out of breath. "Sorry I was, I – hey, is there a problem ?" My Aunt's face is scrambled and somehow frighten. "Are you OK ?"

"Oh my Goodness !" She takes me in a huge hug and I stay still, stunned. "I didn't hear you get in, last night, and I thought – oh thanks God, you're alright !"

"Of course I am, what were you thinking ?" I say, half-smiling, half-sighting. "I just... I missed the last bus so I, well, I took a taxi."

_A red and blue spandex taxi._

Oh, there she is. That little voice. I really wish I had let her on the top of the building, last night.

"I was already considering telling your mother !" My Aunt exclaims, and I can't help laughing a bit. "It would've been catastrophic, that's for sure. What do you think of a breakfast ? It's almost noon but I've heard you teenagers have sometimes... strange habits."

That's why I love her. She _never_ interrogates. If it has been my mom right now, I'd already be dead and buried. There's no doubt about that. "It would be perfect !"

"Two eggs ?"

"Yop !"

"Dress up and be in the kitchen in ten minutes if you don't want me to eat everything."

"Deal !"

Fifteen minutes later, I'm literally eating up the most extraordinary breakfast you've ever seen. That's another part of why I think my Aunt must be elected the greatest aunt ever. Because, well, nobody makes eggs like she does. I mean, it's simply amazing. And I don't only say that because I love eggs, or because my mom is the worst cook ever – which, by the way, is also true. My Aunt is an egg-genius, that's truer than truth.

_An egg-genius ? Sounds like fun._

I'm in a too good mood to reply anything to the little voice.

"So, where did you go, last night ?"

"Broadway. The Lion King." I respond, my mouth full of food.

"Oh, that's nice ! How was it ?"

"Awesome."

"And ? That's all ?" I know she's smiling because I remember her of my father, who doesn't speak a lot unless he's forced to. Just to be clear : I speak _all the time_, but at least I'm like my father when it comes to breakfast. Nobody, and I say _Nobody_ with a capital N, never ever forces me to talk during breakfast. But as it's almost noon, I think I can bend the rules a little.

"Hm... Colorful ?" I attempt, trying to recollect souvenirs of the show, which is difficult because my mind is so occupied with a certain spandex guy.

"Hm, I see !" I know she's making fun of me, but I don't really care because, well, those eggs are really amazing. "Oh, before I forget, do you know where's your brother ?" My Aunt asks after a while, looking at me with her amused face.

"I have no id – OH JEEZ !" I slap my forehead – and it hurts a bit, by the way, because I'm still holding my fork – remembering something, a discussion I had with Jack a few days ago. "I'm supposed to meet him at Central Park !"

My Aunt sniggers, but I'm too concerned to retort anything. "Well, this is quite problematic."

"He's going to kill me !" I whimper, diving my face in my hands – this time I don't forget to drop my fork, which is a good thing to be proud of. "Do not laugh ! This is absolutely tragic !"

"I know, I know ! I'm not laughing, not at all."

"You've never been a great actress, haven't you ?"

"Not as great as you, that's for sure."

"OK, now I should really go." While saying, I realize these are exactly the words the spandex guy – aka Spider-man – said to me, last night, and I can't help feeling a bit sad, and wondering if I'd ever see him again.

"You definitely should, yes. Jack isn't the kind of guy to be patient."

"Well, I think I already know that, but hey, thanks !"

"Don't be rude, Em." She scolds me with a light smile. "And try to bring him home for dinner, I want to see my nephew at my table at least once !"

"I will !"

Seven minutes later – exactly – I'm ready to go. I catch my own gaze on mirror and take the time to examine my face. There are rings under my green eyes and my blond hairs are a bit tangled but I have no time to fix that. Because, if I'm too late, nothing would matter anymore because I'd be killed by my own restless and beloved brother.

The weather's great, today. I realize there is no need to bring a vest and I throw it back on the couch. I check my phone, kiss my Aunt on the cheek and walk away, under the bright sun of June. I haven't made two steps that my phone starts ringing and I hear my brother asking angrily, without even saying hello :

"Where the hell are you ?"

"I – I'm on my way !" I exclaim, feeling almost panicked at the idea of him being furious. My brother isn't the kind of guy who slaps his sister for fun, but I must admit I hate seeing him angry at me. Because, well, he's my brother after all, and we've always get along well with one another.

Jack growls a bit, then hangs up. I consider running, but I'm not that desperate and I just walk fast. It's not that far, actually. I'll be there in around twenty minutes, I guess. Twenty minutes I spend thinking about last night. Right after the spandex guy left, I went into my aunt's as silently as possible and climbed to my room, thousands of questions rushing through my mind. I didn't even take the time to eat or to do anything else. I hurled to my computer and started a research about that "Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man". I can still see the words on the newspaper's page – the Daily Bugle or something like that – because I almost know them by heart, now.

It's been something like six months since Spider-man first appeared in NYC. The newspaper asserts that he is a criminal, but there's no way I can agree with that myself. It's woeful how stupid I am to believe I know him, but anyway, I am deeply sure he is _not_ a villain, and that's enough for me. During my research, I also found tons of articles about an incident with – I quote – "a gigantic Lizard and the well-known defender of the NYC peace, Spider-man, on the very top of the Oscorp tower." There were pictures of that _lizard_, and I couldn't help but think during the all time I was watching them _how_ I could ever miss that. Scottsdale's not a big city, that's for sure, but I would have heard about such an awful thing anyway, wouldn't I ?

But no, nothing had come to our ears in Arizona and I discovered it only last night. And it scared me to death, I must admit it. Not just because that guy was a scientist who became a giant Lizard after a false manipulation. Not just because he almost managed to change all the city into lizards. Not just because a police guy got killed. In fact, it's mainly because Spider-man almost got killed too. And that was _not_ the Lizard's entire fault. There's also a report saying that NYPD shot at him. Just like last night. Why are they doing that ? That's the question. I should really ask him, next time I see him.

If I _ever_ see him again.

Right after that thought comes through my mind, I suddenly bump into someone and raise my head to see who is the _stupid_ guy that's not watching where he walks – "_no, no, it's not your fault, obviously !_" jerks the little voice in my head. And my heart stops.

"You !" I exclaim, shocked. It's the brown-eye guy, the one of the rooftop, the one that woke me, asked me what I was doing and then left as if there were nothing special about a girl waiting a "friend of hers" on the top of a building in the middle of the night. I must admit I had completely forgotten him. I wonder for the first time if he saw us – Spider-man and I – on the rooftop. It's not like we've done something... compromising, but I can't help feeling nervous at the idea. "What the hell are you doing here ?"

"Well, I'm just... walking." He says in a strange, wounded voice that moves me a lot more than it should. Maybe because of those brown deep eyes fixed on me. The bruise on his cheek's almost disappeared, and I find it quite odd, remembering how bad it looked yesterday. His hairs are still a mess, otherwise, and I wonder if he ever combs, or not.

But a simple look on his strangely sad face immediately makes me feel ashamed of the way I talked to him and I start to stammer like an idiot. "Oh, I... OK, then... I just wanted to... Well, I was... Oh boy, there's –"

"I see." He looks down to his feet and begins to walk away.

"No wait !" I say, feeling a bit scared at the idea of him leaving before I can even apologize of my stupid and mean behavior. "I was... I just... are you... how are you ?"

He looks back at me, and I see he is surprised. "I'm feeling good, thanks for asking." He responds in an uncertain, but grinning voice that reminds me of someone – although I don't know who. "What... What about you ?"

"I'm alright, I'm OK, I'm... Yeah."

"That's cool." He hesitates a second before adding. "Your friend... Did he come, last night ?"

"Oh. Yeah, he did. I mean, he was, hum, well, yes, he did."

"That's cool." He says again. "Bring you home on roofs or something ?" He asks jokingly, but I can't help freezing. Fear rushes through my mind, which is quite stupid because there's absolutely nothing behind his question, I know it. That's just a joke. Just. An. Innocent. Joke.

"What ? No we, no, not at all ! We just... talked, and then I went back home alone." I have no idea why on earth I feel that _compelled_ to lie to him. Part because I don't want to betray Spider-man, obviously. But there's something else. Otherwise, why would I be that uncomfortable about him believing something untrue ? I _know_ what he thinks about that "friend of mine" – don't ask me how, I just know it. I know he thinks that he's more than a friend, and I don't want him to think that. Which is quite stupid, actually. Since when am I considering that much what other people thinks about me ?

"Really ?" He doesn't seem to believe me, but I can't think of something else to say without looking more stupid than I already do.

"Hm, hm."

"Well, that was silly." He says, and I stare at him, almost choked.

"What ?"

"You could have been kidnapped or something."

"I didn't have much options." I retort, annoyed. But I must admit I appreciate the fact that he seems concerned about my safety.

_Oh come on, _Princess_ Emma, I didn't think you were that stupid._

I grin – mentally – at the little voice, thinking something like, hell, yes I am. I am completely stupid, that's not new. Stupid like a little Princess who doesn't know anything of the world and wants to believe everyone is as kind and nice as her.

The brown-eye guy says in a kind of huffy voice : "Your friend – if he really was – should have..."

"Anyway, this is not your business." I feel immediately bad for being that mean to him, but he really annoys me, somehow. I no longer think this is cute of him to be concerned by me, really. Who does he think he is, to incriminate someone he doesn't even know ? Whoa. I'm really moody sometimes. "Not at all."

"Oh. OK." There it is again. That almost hurt face that takes my breath out of me and forces me to apologize. I hate that feeling. I really do. This may be why I don't answer anything to that. We stay quiet for a minute or so, then he says, eyes on his shoes : "I should go."

How many times have I heard and said that sentence since last night ? An awful lot, I think. He raises his head and I nod. "OK." And then, without being able to prevent the words from escaping my lips, I add with a smile : "See you then ?"

He lets out a little laugh. "Sure."

"Good." I start to walk again, but he stops me almost immediately.

"Wait. I don't even know your name."

I smile, amused by the shyness that spreads out of his words. "Emma. You ?"

"Emma. Nice to meet you. I'm Peter." I shake the hand he is giving with a laugh. This is quite strange. I met that guy on a rooftop, and now I'm shaking hands with him, in the middle of a crowded street. Definitely odd. He smiles too, and I suddenly feel the urge to flee until that smile makes me do silly thinks.

"OK. I really have to go, now. It was... Hum, bye Peter !"

"Bye." He says, still smiling. "Emma."

And I walk away, my heart pounding much harder than it should be. What the hell is wrong with me ? This is just a guy, there's nothing to be moved ! Just. A. Normal. Guy. Why on earth am I that stupid ? Why is it so simple to tenderize me ? That's the question. I really should live in a cave or something, so I would _not_ feel stupidly in the arms of the first unknown boy that manages to move me even a little. And that's also true for Spider-man.

I'm the most stupid girl of the story of all the stupid girls existing in this world.

"Em ?"

I'm so stuck in my thoughts that I don't really achieve that someone's calling me. I continue to walk, hands in my pockets, eyes on the ground, wondering what I could possibly do to stop being myself when it comes to love and all those stuffs.

"Emma."

This is impossible. I mean, I am like that since ever, I've always been sentimental, naive, I've always seen love as an amazing thing that I couldn't wait to experiment myself, I've always been dreaming of _the_ Prince Charming. And I see one in every boy I meet, that's for sure. Thanks to – or _because of_ – all the movies I watch all the time. I _dream_ my life more than living it properly.

"God damn it Emma ! What the hell is wrong with you, uh ?"

I stop, surprised, and catch my brother's furious eyes. "Oh, hey Jack."

"_Finally_ !" He exclaims, raising his arms with an exceeded face I can't really explain. Until he adds angrily : "I followed you since at least five minutes and you didn't even notice me ! Where the hell were you ? And what the hell where you thinking about ?"

"Sorry, I was, I... I met someone, and then I..."

"Anyway. Off we go, I'm starving."

That's my brother. Asks tons and tons of questions and doesn't even bother to listen to the answers. He is strange. We're all a bit, in our family. I think about my mum, alone at our home in Scottsdale. But no, she's not there, that's for sure. She's certainly at the Hospital, as usual. Drowning her sorrow in work. That's typical. I think about my dad, my lovely dad lost somewhere far away from here, caring for wounded soldiers. I think about Jack, about how he always goes out, maybe to forget everything, maybe to feel different, maybe to try to live the life he's always wanted to live. And I think about Lily, my wonderful, beautiful Lily. And I feel so lonely that I almost burst into tears.

But then I meet Jack's blue eyes – the exact replica of Lily's – and he pulls me into a hug I don't even think to reject. I bury my head in his chest, I feel his hands go up and down on my back, I hear him muttering words I don't really try to understand. I'm so relieved to be with him, and I know he feels the same. I need him as much as he needs me. Now more than ever. Even if we weren't twins, it would be the same thing.

I'm not alone, and I will never be.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Bonjour !**_

**Sorry for the delay, I've had a tough week and didn't find the time to upload until today ! :) Hope you'll enjoy it ! Again, if there's any unforgivable mistake, just tell me ! :)**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

"OK. OK, OK, OK. Oh, please God, go away ! Please please please, if you _don't_ want me to... to smash you, then leave, please please please, little, stupid _thing_... No, no, no, not that way ! OK, listen, what about that way, hm ? Don't you want to go and see what's up near the window ? I'm sure it's pretty cool there, yeah ? Go there. Go there, little thing. Please, I'm begging you, go..."

"Emma ? You OK ?"

I almost jump at my Aunt's voice, on the other side of the door. "Yeap, I'm alright ! Why, is there anything wrong ?"

"No, not at all ! I was just wondering why you were talking to yourself."

As usual, she's making fun of me, and I sigh, wondering why on earth I'm that laughable. "I'm not _talking_ to myself, I'm arguing with a spider !" I retort, and the door cracks open, revealing my Aunt's grinning face. "See ? She doesn't want to go !"

"Why don't you smash her, like any other normal person in this planet would do ?" She mocks, taking a step in my room and sitting on the bed.

"Well I... I can't, I can't, poor little her, she has no chance to flee and live..." Now I feel really stupid, but I can't take my eyes off of that small, defenseless spider. Don't ask me why, or I'll pretend I have no idea.

"Since when do you care about a spider's life ?"

_Since I met a blue and red spandex one._

"I don't know it's, I, well, oh boy, I have no idea !" I stammer, while trying for the hundredth time to grab the insect and throw it out the window. Eventually, the stupid thing decides it's a good idea and I manage to let it go. I straighten in with a triumphant _yes!_ and turn back to my Aunt, who's still sitting on my bed. She's staring at me with a small, tender smile, and I immediately guess she wants us to talk a bit about some _things_. "So, what's up ?"

"You heard about that spider-guy ?"

My heart falls in my chest. "Spider-what ?" I try to sound as surprise as I can, but I don't think this is a real success, considering the little chuckle my Aunt lets go before answering.

"A guy dressed in a red and blue suit, who defends the city against its danger, never heard of him ? I thought you would, even in Scottsdale !"

"No, never." I shake my head. "Why are you suddenly talking about that guy, huh ?"

"Well, it might've been a reason why you don't want to smash spiders anymore."

Oh God, am I that easy to see through ? Or is it just because she knows me well ? "It might've been, yeah." She smiles again, and I can't help returning her smile, because, well, I really think she's the greatest aunt ever. "Hm, guess what, I met a boy today."

"Oh oh, a boy ?"

"Yeah. We just... bumped into each other and started to talk, that was kind of funny." I have no idea why I am talking to her about that, but I suddenly feel the urge to add more details. "His name's Peter, and he is, well, I think I'd love to see him again, you know ?"

"Is he cute ?"

I let out a nervous laugh. "What ? No, he's, well, yeah, I, yes, yeah, very cute." I feel stupidly self-conscious, realizing how much all this is ridiculous. "But I don't think... well, I only know his name, so I think it may be difficult to bump into him again."

"Coincidences happen, sweetie." My Aunt says, with a gentle voice. "What about going out, tonight ?" As I'm already shaking my head, she stops me and adds : "You deserve to have fun, Emma. After all that's happened..."

"I don't think I'm quite ready for that." I retort, and my throat is suddenly so tight that it hurts. "I'm not like Jack."

"I know that, Emma. I know that. But you really should let go, sometimes. You're not invincible."

"I know." How many times have I wished I could be ? "But I still have time before I'll collapse, I guess."

"Are you sure about that ?" There's a glint of sadness in her eyes that makes me feel so bad that I have to close mines for a while to escape that room, escape that consideration I don't deserve but she's still giving to me. I imagine I'm back on that rooftop, waiting for someone – and I'm not sure if I want that someone to be Spider-man or Peter, which is quite embarrassing – to pick me up and take me away of all those things I've fled for months. "I worry about you, Em. We all do. Jack calls me, he says..."

"Oh, that's nice of him." I don't want to hear what my brother said to her, not at all, I'm not even sure why. "By the way, he'll be there for dinner tomorrow."

"I know, but it's not the point here, Emma. The point is..."

"I think you're right. I should go out, tonight. Maybe I'll bump into that boy again, it would be cool." Everything. Everything but what she's about to say. I reach for something, anything, that would be able to help me, changing the subject, vanishing in the air, anything. But it's too late.

"Lily would have wanted..."

"Don't talk about what she would've wanted !" I cry, surprising her as much as myself. "Don't even dare to talk about it. Never, ever. How could you even _think_ that you know what she'd say or do ? Nobody can, OK ? Nobody can because she's dead." The words are burning my chest, my throat, my eyes. For a second I hate her, I hate that woman who tries so hard to help me even if she knows there's nothing to do. All that _mess_ is my fault, she knows it as much as I do. But she still tries.

"Come here."

I don't even think to refuse. I collapse on the bed next to her and let her hug me just as if I was a little child whimpering for a knee scratch. And this is a relief, I must admit it. I have no idea how long we stay like that, how many words she mutters in my ears to calm me down, how many times I felt better then collapsed again, tears running through my cheeks. Everything is so fuzzy around me that I don't even try to understand what's happening. The only clear thought that comes through my mind is that it's the second time today that someone's holding me tight to comfort me. I really have to regain control. I'm not that crybaby, usually...

When I open my eyes, I'm alone and my room's all dark. I probably fell from exhaustion at one point and my Aunt covered me with a blanket before leaving. I have no idea why I suddenly wake up like that. All I know is that my head hurts really, really badly. I sit carefully, passing a hand through my hairs. I guess they're in a pretty mess. Perfect. I take a look to my alarm clock. Seventeen past eleven. My Aunt and Uncle must have had dinner already. Well, it doesn't really matter because I'm not hungry _at all._

For a second, I consider going back to sleep, and wonder if I could find something that would make me sleep forever. And then I see him.

Head down, curled up just like a spider, suspended to one of his webs on the other side of the window. Eyes on me. Well, I guess they _are_ on me, but there's, as usual, no way to be sure with that stupid mask.

I straighten, my heart pounding really fast, and almost jump to the window. I don't even have the time to reach it that he's already left. I manage to open the casement and, even though I have no idea why I'm doing it, I say, hoping he'll hear me : "Wait, please !"

But nothing happens. He doesn't reappear during the five minutes I give him. I stay still, though, and wait. Wait until I feel so upset that a stupid idea comes through my mind. I take a deep breath, ignoring the little voice which curses me repeatedly, then I sit on the edge of the window. He didn't even let me the time to stand on it. I hear his voice, above my head, and that makes me smile triumphantly, I must admit it. "Bad idea."

"You think so ? As you're doing it all the time, I thought it was OK."

"Not for girls like you." He says, and I can hear his smile in his voice.

"Girls like _me_ ? What is that supposed to mean ?" I try to sound annoyed, but I can't help smiling too, because, hell I'm so happy to have the opportunity talk to him again. He's still on the roof and I guess him rather than seeing him properly, but it feels just as if he was holding me in his arms again. It feels _good_, and _safe_.

"Well, let me put this differently : not for anyone who's unlike _me_."

"_Unlike you_ ? So you think you're special, right ? It's a bit egocentric, isn't it ?"

"Yeah, I know, but that's the sad truth." And suddenly he's there, right next to me, and I have to shift to my left to leave him room. He still wears his mask, and I have the time to wish he takes it off before he asks softly : "So how's it going so far ? You look terrible."

I open my mouth, ready to retort something smart and funny, but then I blush, because he must be right, I must look awful, and I realize I don't want him to see me like that. But it's too late. "Well, thanks a lot." I shouldn't feel that embarrassed by his proximity. I _really_ shouldn't. But I am.

"You're welcome." He sniggers for a second then recovers his serious. "No, seriously, what's up ? I would have thought you were crying, if I didn't know you."

"Well, you don't know me." I correct him with a flat smile, eyes on my chest.

"What were you crying for ?" His voice is so gentle, so sweet, so kind that for a while my throat is so tight I can't say anything. I look at him, then back to my knees, then back to him. What am I supposed to say ? Telling him everything ? That would be stupid, he would probably leave before the end. Why would he care about my pathetic little life ?

"Whoa, hold on a second, you fight huge lizards and in the main time listen to girls' problems ? You're a real hero man !" He laughs, and I'm somehow comforted by this laugh, which is quite unexpected considering my poor condition right now.

"Yeap, that's my job ! I take it really seriously, ya know ?"

"That's what I saw, yeah."

"So what's going on, then ? Do you need me to slap someone or ?"

"No, no that's not necessary." I say with a quiet laugh. He is staring at me now, I'm sure of it. My palms start to sweat and the little voice curses me again. Obviously. "It's just... well, I, my sister... I've lost her, two months ago, and I... well, I haven't managed to deal with that yet."

"Oh." He sounds surprised, and I can say that he didn't expect that _at all_. I wonder what he had expected. Some stupid girl's problems, certainly. An bad ex-boyfriend. Or a parent's divorce, maybe. But definitively not a dead sister. I can't blame him. How could he have guessed such a thing ?

"But hey, don't worry, I'm OK now." I really don't want him to feel sad for me. He is still trying to find something to say, I know it, so I frown and play the wrathful girl. "So, here's a question for you, Mister spandex."

"Mister spandex ?" He sounds half-surprised, half-amused, and for an obscure reason, it makes my heart beating a little faster.

"Yes. What were you doing here, staring at me in my room uh ?" I don't even care to know the answer, but I really want to change the subject. And he seems to understand, to my relief.

"Well, I was on the neighborhood and I wanted to see how you were, so I just... er, I took a quick look and here you were, with that sad mottled face, and I was wondering what was going on when you suddenly woke up. That's all." It seems just as if he was trying to justify himself and I can't help grinning like an idiot during his whole speech because, well, it means that he was thinking about me and that pleases me a lot, I must admit it. "You're making fun of me, am I wrong ?"

"No, you're not."

"Why, if I may ask ?"

I laugh to his annoyed voice. "You were totally stalking me, right ?"

"And that makes you laugh ?" He shakes his head. "Normal girls would find that scary."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Well, you should be."

"Oh really ?"

"Absolutely. I am dangerous."

"I don't believe you."

"Why doesn't that surprise me ?" He shakes his head again, and there is something sad in this move, just as if he was remembering gloomy things. My heart falls in my chest. I don't even know why.

"You're not dangerous." I have to say it. I don't want him to be like that, I really don't. "You save people from bad guys, you fight giant lizards, you bring girls home, you even take time to listen to them talking about their pathetic little lives. To put it differently, you take care of that whole city. You're definitively not dangerous. If there's something I'm sure of, it's that."

"I don't get it. How can you be that _sure_ ? You don't even know me, you don't know what I can _do_."

"I don't have to."

For the third time he shakes his head. "You're quite stubborn, aren't you ?" As I don't retort anything, he sighs. "Well, I guess there's no way to make you change your mind."

"You guess right."

He sighs again and stays quiet for a while, before exclaiming. "Anyway, I _don't_ bring girls home !"

"Well, you _did_ last night." I remind him with an amused voice.

"That was actually the first time."

"Oh yeah ?" I really wish I have the guts to ask him why _me_ in particular, but he doesn't let me the time to gather my courage. Just as if he was reading into my thoughts.

"Yeah. And in the case you're wondering why, it's because, well, you remind me of someone."

"Who ?"

"A girl."

I wait for him to continue but he doesn't. "Well, thanks a lot for that illuminating response."

"You're welcome." He's playing with me, as well as I'm playing with him. I must admit I kind of like it. It's like a game, and I've always loved to play.

We stay quite for a while, still siting on the edge of the window. I have plenty of time to examine his red and blue mask and I wonder – for the hundredth time – what he looks like under it. I feel his eyes detailing my face and I wonder who is this girl I remind him of. I don't feel like asking him though, without even knowing why. Maybe because something tells me that the answer won't be funny at all.

"Anyway, that was nice to see you again." He says finally, looking away from me. For an unknown reason, his sentence makes me uneasy. Is he thinking about that girl he mentioned or about _me_ ? I don't know, and I'm quite sure he doesn't either. Which is strange. "You'd better go back to sleep, you really look terrible."

"Yes, I know, thanks again for bringing back that friendly compliment. You should be called 'eulogy-man' rather than 'spider-man'." He laughs and I can't help smiling, too. "By the way, why Spider-man ?"

"I thought it would be obvious." Now it's his turn to make fun of me.

"Yeah, I know, because of your 'abilities', but how did you get them ? Have you been... raised by spiders or something ?"

"I've been bitten." He suddenly winces and I blench, wondering what's wrong.

"Hey, you OK ?"

He shakes his head, barely looking at me. "Yes, sure, I'm OK. I... I have to go."

"Oh." I can't help the bit of sadness in my voice. "I understand, sure, go. I... Will I see you again ?"

"Maybe."

The little word slips painfully into my ear and I flinch, grabbing the edge of the window to regain balance. At the same moment, he holds me tight in his arms and a second later, I'm back on the floor of my room. I don't even have the time to appreciate the safety feeling that his arms give me that he's already back on the edge of the window. I bite my lip as he crouches, preparing to leave. He stays still though, staring at me under his mask. I don't say anything, because nothing comes to my mind. Am I supposed to say anything, anyway ? I'm not sure.

I don't know how many times we stay like that, but he finally shakes his head and whispers : "Believe me when I say I'm dangerous. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, those I love can't be safe. They will always be in danger because of me."

"Why -"

"Keep that in mind. There's nothing good in being friend with Spider-man."

And with that he leaves, disappearing in the night.


	4. Chapter 4

__**Helloho !**

**OK, here's chapter 4 for you guys ! I won't be able to update until next week because I go on holiday to see my family, so this chapter is longer than the others, hoping you'll forgive me ! :)**

**Enjoy !**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

Three days pass and I catch no sign of Spider-man. I pretend I don't care, but that's far to be true. In fact, during daytime, I feel like a zombie, I act brainless, waiting for something to happen, and obviously _nothing_ happens. I spend the Sunday with my aunt and uncle, we picnic in a park under the bright blue sky and everything is perfect – except for the squirrels' squad which tries to steel our lunch and almost succeeds. Then Monday comes, and I find myself alone at my aunt's home, so I decide – to avoid losing my mind – to watch and watch again my favorite movies. So I spend my day with Robin Hood, Sherlock Holmes and Frodo Baggins, and it is quite cool, I must admit it. Because, at least, my mind is no more occupied by a red and blue spandex guy.

But everything changes when the sun goes down. I don't pretend to know why. Just as if my willpower was meant to waver because of darkness. As soon as my aunt and uncle go to bed, I reach my room and I can't do anything but wait next to the window and keep watching the street and the sky, until my eyes close by themselves and I finally slip in bed, my heart pounding sadly in my chest. Spider-man does not come back. Maybe does he, but I don't see him. I'm quite sure that, if he wanted, he could stay perfectly unseen, and perhaps that's what he does.

_Of course not, he just doesn't want to see you again because you're useless and ugly !_

It's Thursday night, I'm sitting on a chair, my feet resting on the edge of the half-open window, pretending to read Shakespeare's Richard III – I'm not reading it for fun, in case you are wondering, it's just that I have to, according to my beloved dad who's right now in the middle of nowhere in Afghanistan, because it's a wonderful way, I quote, 'to learn how to avoid dictators like the plague because what Shakespeare wrote in the 16th Century is still true now, in our amazing 21th Century'. Yes, my dad is quite strange.

Anyway. The little voice has never said anything that mean to me, and my words spread out from my mouth much louder than I had expected. "Shut up !" It's something like one AM and I immediately panic at the idea of waking up my aunt and my uncle. But only the silence responds me and I finally let out a little sigh of relief. I go back into the Act III, scene 4. For about two minutes. Then I see something moving at the edge of my eyes and I straighten in, my heart pounding really, really fast.

It's nothing but a cat, as usual. I watch the little thing cross the street and disappear between two cars, and I wonder if there's a cat-man or a cat-woman wandering in NYC right now. Who knows. My eyes sting as I focus again on my book. It's late, I should go to sleep. If _he_ could see me right now, he would certainly say I look terrible. I try to delve again in Shakespeare's words, but there is no way I can manage to.

Because my brain is _so_ concentrate on that stupid guy. The red and blue spandex taxi. Mister Spandex. Spider-man. I miss him more than I should. I wish I have never met him as much as I wish to see him again and again and again. Talk to him. Play with one another, just as we've done the two times we met. Laugh, imagine what he looks like under his mask, ask him to cast it off maybe.

As I fantasize like an idiot, I realize something that makes me freeze. This is actually the first time I ever get on well with someone who is not of my family since Lily's death. I wonder what she would have thought of him. What she would have said if I had mentioned him. She surely would have laughed, and then asked me for more details. She'd have wanted to meet him. We'd have tried, maybe he would have come. Afterward she would have told me I was crazy, and then would have said something like "God damn you Em, why do you always pick the most interesting guys ?!". Yes, she definitively would've said something like that. Not because it is true – I've always been a calamity concerning relationship, unlike her – but because she always tried to make me laugh, and to value me.

She was the best human-being I've ever met. The best sister, the best friend you've ever dreamt to have. And she's dead.

Tears are now running through my cheeks but I don't care. I close my eyes the strongest I can, and I wish for the thousandth time I have the power to change the past. But I haven't. This is real torture, because it was only a matter of seconds. Those micro seconds that changed everything. If I had been there earlier, it wouldn't have happened. If I had been there earlier, I wouldn't be there right now crying for her. If I had been there earlier, she would still be alive.

I open my eyes with a start, and I'm in my bed. It's eight in the morning, shy sunbeams edge their way into the room. For one second I panic, because I _don't_ remember going to bed, last night. I remember reading Richard III, I remember that cat on the street, I remember thinking about Lily and crying. But that's _all_.

And then my eyes fall on a handkerchief, right next to me on the other pillow. My Grand-ma's handkerchief. The one I have used to make a bandage for Spider-man, something like ages ago.

I straighten in, my heart pounding faster than it should. I take a quick look around my room, but _of course_ he is not here anymore. But he was. That's for sure. And that means he still cares. He still looks after me.

_Or maybe he is a real gentleman and just wanted to give you back that thing because it's as useless as you !_

I flinch but then shake my head and decide not to believe the little voice. It could be true, of course, but I don't want to think like that. I want to _hope_. This may sound stupid, but it's actually true. I've lost tons of important things, these past months, but something tells me that as long as I can hope, I won't give up. Someone – I don't remember who – said once that hope was stronger than fear. I know by experience that it is entirely true.

And this is why, despite my tiredness, I stand up and start to dress, already elaborating a plan to get him to show himself. My Aunt and Uncle are already at work, so I eat my breakfast alone with the TV. I don't really pay attention to what I watch, though. I'm too busy thinking about Spider-man and the way I can see him again, even though he seems that convinced it's better for me to stay away from him. And it appears to me that there is one option.

And so I head for the building where we first met. It's almost noon when I finally reach it, and I decide to buy something to eat before applying my plan. I sit on a bench right in front of the building and eat a huge ketchup hot dog. I'm so stuck in my thoughts that I can't help jumping when a voice suddenly raises behind me :

"What the hell are you doing here ?"

I turn, and there he is, the brown-eye guy, Peter. He's staring at me and frowning, just as if he wasn't pleased _at all_ to see me right now. I open the mouth, surprised mostly, but a bit hurt too, I must admit it. I vaguely notice those words are the exact same words I told him when we had our little encounter on the street, five days ago, and I can't help my smile, because well, this is kind of lovely weird. "I'm just... eating." I try to sound as hurt as he sounded back then, and I'm not sure I manage to until he lets out a little laugh and sits next to me on the bench, putting down his bag and skateboard.

"Switching roles, uh ? That's fun." He's no longer frowning, and I have no idea why but now he seems happy, and in the same time shy and distant. This guy is definitively strange, and moody. Oh boy, just like me. "Eating and waiting for a 'friend of yours', right ?" He asks in a fake grumpy voice I really can't explain.

I stare at him in disbelief for a moment then begin to say : "Yes, but how do you -"

"That was easy."

I wait for him to continue, but as he doesn't, I shake my head and ask gently : "What about you ? What are you doing ? You live there or something ?"

"Why do you say that ?"

"I don't know I mean, we met around here so I thought -"

"I live in Queens."

"Oh. That's nice."

"You have no idea where it is, right ?" _Of course_. I really should be a comic or something, I'm pretty sure I would make people laugh without even trying. I'm already doing it _all _the time, so I guess it's a kind of vocation. I don't know if there are studies for that, in college or something, but perhaps it would be great to ask for information. I'm _so good_ at that, it would be a huge waste if I don't.

"Hum, no."

Even though I'm totally avoiding his gaze right now, I'm pretty sure his eyes are sparkling with laugh, and it makes me feel really self-conscious and stupid. "You're not from New York, aren't you ?"

"Elementary, my dear Watson."

"Where are you from, then ?"

"Scottsdale, Arizona."

"Oh. Never been there."

"You're not missing anything, I guarantee it. Unless you like golf or are really interested in shopping, which I doubt." I say, turning myself to face him again. He's smiling widely and for an unknown reason, it makes me freeze.

"Well, you're wrong, I love shopping." I raise an eyebrow and he laughs. "Anyway, you really should be ashamed of yourself about not knowing where Queens is."

"Yes I know, I'm a disgrace for all the marvelous people of Scottsdale, Arizona." I shake my head as he laughs again. "But not knowing where it is doesn't mean I haven't heard of it before ! I just have an awful sense of direction, it's not my fault."

"Oh yeah ?"

"Hm, hm. And because of that poor capacity of directing myself wherever I go, it's completely impossible for me to remember where exactly Queens is, and for that I'm deeply sorry."

_You are definitely stupid._

Oh god, yes I am. Peter's still laughing like an idiot and I suddenly feel the urge to flee, just like last time. I straighten in, determined to act upon that sudden envy. Peter immediately stops laughing and frowns. "You're leaving ?"

"Yes, I have some... things to do." I say, avoiding his gaze again even though I have no idea why.

"What kind of things ? I thought you were waiting for someone."

"Yes but he, he won't come _here_."

"Why not ?"

"He is... shy."

Peter raises an eyebrow in disbelief and stares at me in this strange way he has to watch people – or at least _me_ – as if trying to read into their thoughts. We stay still for a while, and despite all my attempts, I don't manage to look away. Those brown eyes are so striking, so mischievous, so deep it feels like I'm drowning in them. And this isn't a bad feeling, actually. I almost forget where we are, right now, and _almost_ wish we could stay like that for ever.

Then he shrugs and looks away, and it's just as if I'm waking after a long, long night of sleep. I am lost, I am dazed, and I desperately want to go back to sleep even though I know night is over and I have to get up. Or at least that's how I feel. "I'm coming with you, then."

"What ? No, no way !" I exclaim angrily. I'm not even sure why I'm reacting like that. All I know is I _don't_ want him to come. He frowns again and opens his mouth, ready to retort something, but I don't let him. I cross the street carefully – _thanks God_ there's no car to hit me which, by the way, is something I've already experimented (but that's not the point right now) – and head to the building, without a glance for Peter.

But that doesn't change anything because, well, he's already at my side. I scowl, he scowls back, and I almost burst of laugh because that's so ridiculous. I manage to keep a straight face, though, – and I'm really proud of that – and enters in the building. And _he_ follows me in, and I find that really annoying now.

"Go away, I don't need you to -" I start, but he cuts me right away :

"Oh really ? I guess you don't even have a plan to get on that roof, am I wrong ?"

"Yes, you are wrong, I have a wonderful plan which consists in -"

"Hush." Peter catches my arm to stop me as I walk to the lift and forces me to my left. The doorman is approaching from there with a suspicious look on his face, but I don't know if I freeze because of him or because of Peter's hand. "I take that." He takes a step toward him and displays a smile of apology. "Hey man, uh, we were just -"

"May I help you ?" His voice's a bit annoyed and he is frowning so hard that his eyebrows are almost meeting above his eyes. I wonder for just a second if Peter finds that as funny as I do.

"Yes !" I exclaim, but Peter immediately presses his hand over my mouth to shut me up.

"No, really, we didn't mean to get in here, sorry, my friend is a bit mentally disabled and she thought she lived here but she doesn't. Now off we go, no problem, come on Emma. Sorry for the inconvenience man !" I try to resist but he is much stronger than I thought and he manages to bring me back outside without seeming to make any effort.

"Let me go !" I hope my voice will alert someone, but there's not so many people around here and it just makes Peter laughs a bit. Still, he releases his grip and faces me with half-a-smile. Anger rushes in my heart but I only manage to say one thing. "_Mentally disabled ?!_"

He sniggers but I must seem really furious because he then runs a hand through his hair with a guilty face. "Yeah, sorry about that, it's the only explanation I -"

"You're the stupidest guy I've ever met !"

_Whoa, you must be an expert in cursing to say such a thing !_

I cringe and Peter raises his hands in a defensive gesture. "I'm sorry OK ? I couldn't let you -"

"Couldn't let me ? Couldn't _let me_ ?! You must be kidding' ! Who the hell do you think you are, my father ?" He bites his lip and my anger almost vanishes just because of that. But as I realize it, it reappears and I'm on for another furious sequence. "Why would you care about what I do anyway uh ?!" I turn my back to him, determined to ignore him.

"Emma." Do not answer back, do NOT answer back. "Emma, I'm sorry, really." That doesn't change anything. "I shouldn't have do that, you're right." Yes, I'm absolutely right, that's why I'm mad at you, you silly boy. Stay mad, you can do it, stay mad. "I have no excuse. Like you said, I'm the stupidest guy in the world."

"Yes ! Yes, you are !" No ! Why are you turning, you idiot !

"Please, forgive me." How am I supposed to say no to those eyes ? I dive my face into my hands to escape them and stay quiet for a minute before answering :

"OK, but one condition : tell me a way to reach that stupid roof and then I'll forgive you."

"Kid's stuff." He says, and even though I'm not looking at him directly, I know he's smiling widely. "Fire escape. It's just there." I follow his gaze and there it is, to my relief. Fire escape. Good, my plan's not completely wasted after all.

"OK, you're forgiven, see you then !"

"Hey no, wait, I'm coming with you !"

I ignore him and almost run to the fire escape. I start to climb it and I know he is right after me. I can't really say if I'm glad or furious. I have vertigo since ever, and we haven't reached the second floor yet that my stomach is already sinking. When I'm still, that's OK, but when I move, it's awful. I really don't understand how I manage to survive to that trip in the air with Spandex-guy and moreover find it awesome. I'm quite strange, sometimes.

"Stop following me !" I scold, but it is far to be convincing and Peter keeps climbing behind me. And I must admit I'm really happy he does. Because when we finally reach the roof, I'm completely out of breath and close to pass out. Peter grabs my arm and frowns.

"You OK ?"

I take a deep breath and nod. I vaguely realize I'm almost leaning on him – which is quite embarrassing – but I'm too dazed to move and so we stay like that for a while, until I finally manage to get my breath back.

"You should practice some sport, you know." Peter says after a moment, and I know he is making fun of me _again_. I free from his grip and wish I could kill him just with my gaze. But I only manage to make him laugh, as usual. I should probably get used to that. "Don't look at me like that, I'm supposed to be forgiven, remember ?"

"It would be easier if you weren't _that_ irritating."

"Yeah, I know, sorry about that, really."

I shake my head in disbelief and go away from him. I feel his eyes on my back but I pretend I don't care – which is far, really far to be true – and begin to sit on the edge of the roof, balancing my left leg in the air. I don't even have the time to do the same thing with my right leg that Peter suddenly grabs my back and whisper in my ear :

"What _the hell_ do you think you are doing ?"

"Hey, relax, I'm just siting !" I exclaim, frowning to the unusual anger I can hear in his voice.

"God damn you Emma, you're impossible !"

That makes me laugh, I don't even know why, and Peter sighs. Still, he sits next to me, his eyes lost somewhere in the ocean of buildings in front of us. I give him a quick look and _god_ he is really handsome in the sunlight, so handsome that my heart starts pounding really, really fast in my chest. Think about something else. I _have_ to think about something else. I feel awfully self-conscious of his leg almost touching mine, and this is bad, this is really bad because that's not part of my plan. I'm here to see Spider-man. Not to go out with a ridiculous and cute brown-eye guy I met on a roof on a Friday night.

Surprisingly, I eventually manage to think about something else and almost forget he's right next to me. Or at least until he says, after long moment of silence :

"He's not coming."

"Yeah. Because of you, I guess."

He chuckles, and even if I try, I don't manage to explain why. "Maybe." He stays quiet for a while then adds in a gentle voice : "He won't come."

I startle in surprise. "What ?"

"He will not come." He repeats, and he's not smiling anymore. "Not today, believe me."

"How can you... Hey wait a second, you don't even know who I'm waiting for !" But something suddenly tells me he _does_ know, and I'm actually right.

"You're waiting for Spider-man." I freeze and stare at him, but he avoids my gaze and pretends to develop a sudden huge interest on his legs balancing in the air. "Trust me, Emma, let go of him. He is no... He is no good for you."

"He said exactly the same thing."

"Then if you don't believe me, at least believe _him_."

I have no idea why but it reminds me of that Journey's song, and the lyrics start running in my head. _Don't stop believin', hold on to the feelin'_. "I can't."

"Why ?"

Because I have to hope, because if I don't, I would probably go mad or something, because I'm not invincible and I need someone like him. The words come easily in my mind, but I don't manage to let them out of my mouth. And I don't know why. "Because he... because I..." I mumble like an idiot for a while, and Peter – god damn that boy ! – doesn't try to help me. He crosses his arms and stares at me, waiting until I finally exclaim furiously : "God I have no idea why, but it's like that OK ? And anyway, it's not your business !"

"You love him ?" I startle, momentarily incapable to breath normally. Since when do boys understand things like that so easily ? That guy is a wizard ! Or maybe he reads in thoughts, after all. I don't answer anything and he seems surprised for a while, then half-a-smile illuminates his face and he says : "You love him !"

"No, I don't !"

"A guy in a skintight red and blue suit, seriously ?"

"Would you please shut up, uh ?"

He laughs, and there's a glint of pleasure in that laugh that I don't understand. But maybe I'm imagining things. "Well, I'm sure he'll be quite happy to hear that."

My cheeks are suddenly burning and I start to stammer : "How do you, what, it's, no ! I... Hey, wait a sec, do you know him ?" He laughs again and I take that for a yes, without knowing why. "Don't you _dare_ to tell him !" I realize my mistake a second too late as I catch his laughing brown eyes.

"Then it's true !" He exclaims triumphantly. He is smiling widely and I can't help noticing how cute he is when he smiles like that. I open my mouth to retort something because, well, he is awesomely cute, yes, but he's also mocking me, and I just _can't_ let him do that without trying to stop him.

But then the building in front of us explodes.

* * *

**Don't hate me please !**

**Reviews are welcomed ! :D**

**Oh, and happy almost-Halloween, BTW ! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

__**Hey hey !**

**Sorrysorrysorry for the delay ! (and for the cliffhangers as well xD) I was on holiday and didn't get the chance to write, and then I had to work, and then I finally got the DVD of the Amazing Spider-man (jsqkmdjfpezrijldsjflkdjkzjdk sqmjdl I'm dying), and then I just HAD to watch it obviously, and then the new chapter of "Reckless" was updated (kjaljdksljfeizprjpiea) and then... Yeah, you're right, I have no excuse !**

**So here's the Chapter 5, hope you like it, reviews are welcomed ! :)**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

I'm flying. I'm literally flying. Just as if my body suddenly weighs nothing. Time seems to have stopped. I don't know if I stay suspended in the air for days or months or years or just a couple of seconds. The only thing that crosses my mind is that when I'll land, it's gonna hurt.

But then Peter catches my hand and draws me towards him just as if he was trying to protect me. We hit the ground and it feels as if the impact just knocks every wisp of air from my lungs. Even though I've landed half on Peter and he's taken most of the shock, he straightens in immediately and asks anxiously :

"Are you OK ?"

"Yes I, _ouch_ !" My left hand is all covered in blood and I stare at it, dazed. Peter grabs it and takes a close look at it, but I shake my head and assure in a weak voice I don't even recognize as mine : "That's nothing, just a scratch. What about you ?"

He bits his lip, his eyes still focusing on my hand. "I'm alright, don't worry about me. We have to find something to disinfect that."

"What ? No, that's OK, really, it's just a scratch, trust me." He raises his head and meets my gaze. For some unknown reason, he's frowning and looks at me in disbelief. I swallow and turn to my left. The building – which is a little shorter than the one we're on – seems to be burning from the inside. I can still feel the heat of the explosion on my face and my heart seems to have definitely sunk into my chest. "Anyway, what _was_ that ?"

"An explosion."

_Well, thank you Captain Obvious._

"You can't stay here, you have to..." Awful screams begin to rise from the devastated building and Peter's face suddenly freezes. I stare at him, fear rushing in my heart. Something tells me that he's planing something right now, and that I'm not to like it _at all_. And I'm right. "OK, you stay here, you'll be safe unless the fire reaches the roof, but I really doubt of it."

"What ? What about you ? Where -"

"I have to go and help." His face is now a mask of determination and it scares me to death, I must admit it. "Stay here." He stands up and turns to go, but I manage to catch his hand before it's too late.

"No, wait, you -"

"Please, please, please Emma, trust me just one time OK ?" He seems to be tearing apart and squeezes my fingers so hard it almost hurts. I open my mouth to retort something but he anticipates me and adds : "You keep my board."

"What ?"

He gives me his board and I take it, stunned. "You keep my board." He repeats firmly. "I'll be back here as soon as they don't need S– me anymore, I promise. You stay here and wait, then I bring you back home, deal ?"

"I don't need you to bring me home !" I retort with a hint of bitterness I don't even try to hide. He cringes with a frown and I immediately feel ashamed of myself, but it's too late.

He looks shocked for a second then dives his hands on his pockets with a sulky face. "Oh, right. Maybe you'll like it better if it was Spider-man." He mumbles, barely looking at me.

"No !" My heart sinks in my chest as I stop him again from walking away. "No, it's not... I mean, it's just that I... I don't want you to... You don't have to..."

"I don't have to _what_ ?" He seems a bit annoyed, and that makes me freeze of anxiousness from head to toes.

"It's just... I don't want you to... to get hurt."

"Get hurt ?" Now he looks surprised, and _that_ makes my heart pound faster than it should.

"Yeah, I mean, it's not like... like it was nothing, that building, it just exploded, I mean, you're not..."

"You worry about _me_ ?" He lets out a little laugh and raises an eyebrow. "Why ?"

"I'm not, I don't... Well." I clear my throat, feeling really self-conscious and stupid under those goddamn brown eyes. "Yeah."

"What ?"

"Yes, I do worry about you."

"Why ? You don't even know me."

"Well, I feel like I do." Am I really _blushing_ right now ?

"That's a bit stupid, isn't it ?"

"What ? No, not at all !"

He shakes his head in disbelief and runs a hand in his hair. "Anyway, you really don't have to worry about me."

"Why not ? Perhaps you think you're invincible, but I know you're not !"

"Oh really ?" He says, half-jokingly, half-annoyed.

"Yeah." Oh no. Peter plunges his gaze into mine and I almost struggle not to look away. I've never been good at that kind of thing. I hold tight his board in my hands and we stare at one another for a while until he finally shrugs and shakes his head.

"You're impossible, ya know that ?"

I can't help my laugh, without even knowing why. "I'm told so all the time, yeah."

"Will you do me a favor ?"

"No, I won't. I'm coming with you. You've been stubborn, now it's my turn."

"God damn you Emma !" He exclaims, raising his arms to the sky. "You're the worst -"

"And anyway, I can help." I cut him, to his surprise.

"Can you ?"

He's frowning in disbelief, and a hint of irritation – _God_, he never believes me, whatever I say ! – spreads into my voice. "Yes. My dad's a doctor."

"Oh yeah, that's true." He suddenly freezes and, before I have time to say anything – like 'how the hell do you know my dad's a doctor ?!' which is, by the way, a thing I'd really like to ask_ –_ he quickly adds : "Anyway, I'm not going to beg you, but please, stay here Emma. I _have_ to go."

I feel the sudden urge to tap him on his head with the board I'm still holding, but I manage nevertheless to forbear and I sigh, instead. "OK, go then. But you'd better mind out if you don't want me to get really, _really_ mad at you."

"Oh oh, really mad at me, uh ?" He laughs, and then kisses me on the cheek, and it almost feels like the area his lips are brushing is suddenly all in fire. I shudder as he draws back with a smile, and I'm sure I'm blushing harder than ever, right now. "Stay here, I'll be right back !"

And he almost runs to the fire escape, hurling a last glance in my direction before disappearing downstairs. I consider for a second the idea of following him, but somehow, of course, I don't want to disappoint him. God, I'm so stupid. I look at the board I'm still holding, wondering since when that guy took such an important place in my life. I could go and let his board right here, he would find it, that's for sure. It's not like that roof was immense. I could let a note on it, saying that I had to go, but that it was cool to see him and blah blah blah. I could pretend I had things to do, I could lie to him. Yes, I definitely could do that.

But I don't want to.

_Leave now, he doesn't need you anyway !_

I could lie to myself, I could say "No, he needs me to keep his board !" because, well, he said it clearly, but I don't. I don't, because I don't need to justify the fact that I'm staying here and waiting for him. Because the reason why I _am_ staying here is so simple that it's almost stupid. I just want to see him again. Just like I do with Spider-man. Just like I do with Lily, with my brother, with my dad, with some of my friends back in Scottsdale. Just like I do with people I care for.

I don't even know his last name, but I do know I care for him.

And that's enough for me to stay and wait.

I shake my head while the little voice curses me repeatedly and turn to my left, to the burning building. The memory of the explosion's heat is too recent and I don't have the courage to move forwards the edge of the roof, still I can see almost everything that's happening right there. Down in the street, I can hear ambulance sirens and panicked screams. Firefighters are already there, pulling off people of their apartments devoured by the flames, trying to control the fire. A flash of red and blue catches my attention and my heart stops. He dives into an exploded window of the seventh floor and I bit my lip so hard that tasted blood invades my mouth.

Great. Now I have to worried about Peter _and_ Spider-man.

Another explosion occurs and screams become almost frantic. Fear reach my heart. Panic runs in my blood like poison. For a second, it feels like I'm back then, back to the moment when I arrived and couldn't find Lily nowhere. Back to the moment when I called the police, back to the moment when I finally found her. Back to the moment when I watched life leave her eyes.

My hands are so tight around the board that it hurts. I swallow hard and step back, desperate to escape all these cries of pain. People are dying right now, and I can't do anything to help them. I'm useless, just like that night. Tears are running down my cheeks. This is a nightmare. This. Is. A. Nightmare.

I wish I was dead. I wish I could jump of that roof and help just like Spider-man does. I wish I could teleport myself to South Pole and die there. I wish I could snap my fingers and all the screams and pain and fear down there would vanish instantly.

Instead of that, I cower on the floor next to the fire escape's entrance and plate my hands over my hears. I'm selfish. I'm mean. I'm useless. I'm scared. I'm about to throw up, because of the screams and because of my cowardice. I'm in tears, my throat is so tight I'm almost struggling to breath. Even Lily would be ashamed of me, right now.

But what can I do ?

Even if I wasn't to stay here, what could I possibly do ? I said to Peter I could help, but that's far to be true. I'm not my dad. The first and last wound I healed was Spider-man's one. And I don't really want to do that again. Not just because I'm afraid. I am, of course. But that's not all. I've seen too much blood to ask for more. Nobody asks for more blood.

_Nobody except psychopaths. Or vampires. _

Perfect. The little voice. If she's still there, that means I'm not turning completely insane. Whoa. What a paradox. I open my eyes and realize with a start it's almost late afternoon. I straighten in and almost run to the edge of the roof. Flames are extinguished. Everything is quiet. Deadly quiet. A safety barrier has been placed around the devastated building. There's no one to be seen. No one. Nor firefighters, nor ambulances, nor victims, the street is absolutely empty.

No trace of Spider-man, nor of Peter.

I've never felt that alone in my entire life before.

Then a cough raises to my right and I immediately turn, my heart sinking into my chest. As my eyes fall on him, he collapses on the floor, face to the ground, and I rush to him, scared to death. I kneel beside him and carefully turn him on his back. While doing, I burn my hands on the ravaged spandex, but I don't care. "Oh my – are you OK, are you OK ? Oh god !"

He mumbles something I don't understand then starts to cough harder than I've ever heard someone coughing. Panic threaten to invade my heart but I take a deep breath and help him to straighten in. He lets himself go, which is a good thing because I'm sure at two hundred percent I wouldn't have managed to do it if he'd resisted. The spandex of his suit is burnt in various place, I can smell burning flesh and _that_ is really frightful.

But I keep calm. I'm not the one in pain, right now. I'm not the one who's allowed to collapse. I have to be strong. I have to help him. He deserves it.

"Mister Spandex ?" He manages to let out a little moan that may be a laugh and I continue, trying to ignore the fact that if my hands burn like that, his state must be a hundred times worse. "We need to remove your suit." That seems to panic him and he shakes his head, mumbling a less-than-coherent _no need, no need_. But I raise a hand with what I thing is a reassuring smile and he stops. "No problem, not the mask, I get it. But we _do_ need to remove the rest, or you won't heal."

"No hospital." He says in a rough voice, and I bit my lip in anxiousness, wondering if his lungs have been affected as well as his body. Considering how hard he coughed two minutes ago, there are a lot of chance they have. And this is not good, I know it. Not good at all.

"No hospital." I promise, and he seems to relax a bit. "You ready ? This might hurt." He nods and I take a deep breath before reaching his back and removing the upper part of his suit. He groans as the spandex literally comes off of his skin and my heart falls in my chest as I take a close look on his burns. They all are superficial, but _god_ there are tons of them. On his arms, on his pectorals, on his belly. How am I suppose to threat that with a half-full bottle of water, hankies and hand sanitizer ? "OK, next time you run into a fire, warn me in advance and I'll take what's needed."

"Sure." He nods, and I know he is closely staring at me, waiting for me to do something. Problem is, I don't know what to do. If it were up to me, I would take him immediately to the nearest hospital. Again, problem is, I promised not to. And I don't want to break my promise, because having his confidence is somehow really important to me.

And so I start working. I clean the best I can the major burns, using everything I can. While doing, I keep talking, making stupid comments that make him laugh, because I know that if I don't, I'd sooner or later burst into tears because I'm not doing the right things. Burns like that need lots, lots of water, I know it. But I _don't_ have lots of water. "Oh boy, it would be faster if I could throw you on the Hudson or something."

"You're not strong enough for that." He jokes, and I throw him a furious glance before returning to my task.

Once the upper part of his body's cleaner, I pause for a second. Ideally, I should take care of his legs and all, but something tells me that he's not wearing anything under his suit, and I am cramped and blushing just by the idea of it. I raise my head to stare at him, hoping he will understand my interrogations just by looking into my eyes.

Thanks God, he does.

"You should be a nurse or something, really, I feel much better now." He assures, and I imagine he's smiling under his mask. "Thanks, a lot."

"You're welcome."

"Don't... don't worry about the rest, that's OK."

"Sure." I hesitate for a second then add : "Anyway, legs always heal faster than the rest." He nods, and we stay quiet for a while. I stare at him as he puts back on his suit, but I don't give him a chance to stand and leave. I have to try, at least once. Even if I know he'll say no. "Maybe we should... well, take off your mask and see if there's nothing... bad."

He stares at me for a minute before shaking his head. "No. I'm OK, really, don't worry about that it's... nothing. My face will recover."

"Yeah, sure, but it would do it faster if you let me -"

"No."

I blench to his suddenly abrupt tone and sadly bit my lip. "You can trust me, you know, I won't... I won't tell anybody who you are."

"Of course you won't." His voice is gentle again, just as if he already knew that. Then he shakes his head and adds : "But trust me, it's not because of you if I don't."

"Why then ?" I ask, a bit annoyed I must admit it. Perhaps because I sort of guess what he's going to say. And I'm right.

"Because of me. If you know who I am, you'll sooner or later be in danger. And I can't let that happen."

"I can defend myself." I retort. I can't see his face, but I know for sure that he's opening his mouth to argue and I quickly add : "But I understand."

"Do you ?" Now he's surprised, I can clearly hear it in his voice.

"Yes, I _do_ understand." I nod. "And as I do, then you might understand _I_ can't let you suffer like that." Because he _is_ suffering, right now. I feel it. Not only in his voice, but in his posture, in everything. And that kills me to see him like that.

"Emma..." He shakes his head again, and there's something so sad in his voice and his gesture that I completely forget to ask how he knows my name. I'm pretty sure I've never said it to him, but I just _can't_ interrogate him right now.

"What if I don't look, uh ? I close my eyes and you lead my hands, deal ?" To emphasize my words, I do close my eyes and wait. Wait until fingers suddenly lightly caress my left cheek. I freeze and bit my lip, but I don't open my eyes.

"Why are you doing that ?" He whispers softly. I shiver and it consumes all my willpower not to keep my eyes close.

"I want to help you, that's all." He stays quiet for so long after that that I start to think it was not the right thing to say _at all_. But then he moves, and I know he is removing his mask. I freeze, my heart pounding really fast in my chest. His fingers catches mines and bring them to his face. I vaguely think I've never felt that tensed and self-conscious in my entire life. "OK, lead me." I whisper. I can't help blushing of embarrassment because _god_, my voice sounds so weak and shy.

But he doesn't seem to note, or at least to mind. Just as I did with the upper part of his body, I clear the places he indicates me as painful. It takes me almost ten minutes, even though they're just a few of them, because, well, I'm not really great with closed eyes.

"You'd be a terrible blind girl."

"Yes, I know, thanks a lot." I mumble while he lets out a quiet laugh. "Anyway, I don't really _plan_ to get blind so, I think it's not that bad."

"Yeah, I guess so." I feel him smiling, and that moves me a lot, I must admit it. I clear my throat and move back, trying to ignore the fact that I want so bad to open my eyes right now.

"I think I'm done, yeah ?"

"Absolutely." Whoa, whoa, whoa. Since when his voice is _that_ soft ? I'm turning crazy. I'm definitely turning crazy. Crazy about that guy I can't even see the face. This is bad. This is really bad. "Thank you." He whispers, and it feels like my heart is completely gone, now.

"You're welcome." At the very same moment, he kisses me on the cheek and I freeze, my heart pounding so hard that it almost hurts. It's a quick, soft kiss, an innocent one, but it just feels as if I'm suddenly on a cloud, high in the sky, lost somewhere I don't want to leave.

"I should go." He's moving, putting back on his mask now. I shouldn't feel that sad. I really shouldn't.

"Yeah, sure." I nod, my eyes still closed, wondering if I can open them. "Next time, I'll bring my all chemist's stuff." He lets out a little laugh that makes me shiver.

"Open your eyes." I obey and here he is, in his skintight red and blue suit, with his mask on. I smile and imagine he smiles back. We stare at one another for a while, then he stands up and I do as well. "I should go."

"Sure." I clear my throat and, before I can stop myself, I ask : "See you ?"

He shakes his head and his fingers brush past my cheek again. "Maybe." This time, I have no idea why, the little word seems full of promises, and my heart pounds happily in my chest as I watch him go.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey everyone ! :D**

**Here's Chapter 6 ! Thank you all for the reviews, I'm so glad you like it ! :D**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

I don't have to wait long to hear footsteps on the fire escape. I brace myself, wondering if I'll be needed as a nurse _again_, but it appears I won't, eventually. Peter comes out on the roof and I stare at him, detailing every inches of his face, looking for something, anything, that would translate a bad injury. But thanks god he seems OK. His hair are a frantic mess and he has a burn on his left cheek, but otherwise he looks as noodle and cute as usual.

"You took your time." I falsely mumble as he walks towards me with something that looks like a careful smile on his face.

"Yeah, sorry about that, I get distracted."

"Distracted ?"

He doesn't let me the time to ask why and responds quickly with a shrug : "Yeah. But anyway, you weren't alone, were you ? I heard voices."

"What ? No, I..." I'm a bit tempted to retort that if he hears voices, that's really startling, but again he doesn't let me the time to.

"Considering how you're blushing, I conclude that you were with Spider-man."

"What – hey, I'm not blushing !"

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

I cringe and clench my fists. "No. I'm. Not !" Peter lets out a little laugh and before I can stop myself, I mumble : "Bah, you're just jealous."

He immediately shuts up and frowns. "No, I'm not."

"Liar."

He blinks and stares at me in silent for a while before shaking his head with an amused smile. "Are you always like that ?"

"Like what ?" I retort almost bitterly.

"I don't know, egocentric ?"

"Oh !" I swing my fist at him but he easily dodges it, with a quiet laugh that turns my stomach upside down. And I don't really know why. Maybe because it reminds me of someone I can't put a name on. Someone whom I care for, that's for sure. He sticks out his tongue at me and I turn away, determine to sulk even though I'm not good at that at all. "I hate you."

"Ah, come on, how old are you ?" He's laughing, of course. Why is it that he is always making fun of me, uh ? I don't get that, I really don't.

"Seventeen." I whistle between my teeth, looking daggers at him. His smile grows bigger and it becomes somehow really hard not to smile back. _God_, that guy is going to kill me. "OK, now that you've mocked me enough, we should probably go."

"Uh, go where ?"

"I thought you were bringing me back home ?"

"Oh yeah, that's true."

"You truly forgot it !"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did !"

"Playing that game again ? You're going to loose, I assure you !"

"We'll see." Now it's my time to stick out my tongue at him and he playfully winks before leading the way to the fire escape. I follow him, not quite sure of what I'm feeling right now. Not quite sure of what I'm feeling about that brown-eye guy. He's impossible, he's annoying, he's somehow stupid. But _god_ I love so much those little verbal jousting of ours. He stops before we start climbing down the stairs and turns to stare at my face with a sudden serious expression that startles me. "What ?" I say in a huffy voice I don't really explain.

"Is it OK for you to descend those stairs or are you going to pass out just like last time ?"

For half a second, I actually think he's serious, but something then alerts me, some tiny mischievous glow in his eyes and I clench my fists again, furious. "God damn you Peter ! You'd never stop to make fun of me, wouldn't you ?"

"Nah, don't think so." He concedes with a large smile. "I love too much watching you getting worked up anytime I say something tiresome."

"Which is, all the time."

"Which is, all the time, yeah." He's smiling so widely I can't help returning his smile back, because _hell_ he is so cute. "But hey, don't mind what I say, I've always been a bit stupid, ya know."

"Oh yes, I know, absolutely."

"Shut up and move on, woman."

I shake my head and catch his fully mischievous smile, wondering since when my heart pounds fast like it does right now. "You go first."

"Why, are you scared ?"

I cringe and he laughs. "If you had vertigo like me, you wouldn't be that mean !"

"It'd be fun." He says, leading the way in the stairs, and I follow him, wondering what he can possibly mean with that.

"What ?"

"Me, having vertigo."

"What – why ?"

"Uh. Don't really know." He rushes a hand through his hair, avoiding my gaze for an unknown reason. "Just... Forget about that."

"You're quite strange, Mr Peter."

"I'm told so, yeah."

"What's your last name, anyway ?"

"Why do you want to know that ?"

"Bah, don't know. To get a new way to call you next time I'll be furious at you, maybe." I shrug and he lets out a little laugh of misunderstanding. "I've always thought it was way better to call people by their last names when you're mad at them."

"That's an interesting point."

I raise my eyes to the sky, well aware of the fact that he is, again, making fun of me. "So ?"

He stares at me in silence for a while, and I have trouble not to stumble on my feet as we keep descending the stairs. He stays quiet for so long that I eventually think he won't tell me – and I really don't get why, by the way. But of course, at the very same moment, he seems to decide that he can trust me and he says in a soft voice I didn't know he could have. "Parker. Peter Parker."

_Bond. James Bond._

I mentally tell the little voice to shut up, then smile to Peter. "Nice to meet you, Mr Parker."

"What about you ?"

"You don't wanna know."

"Of course I do !" His impatience and annoyance make me laugh, for an unknown reason. "Stop laughing like an idiot."

"Why should I ? You do it all the time."

"Yeah, but that doesn't really suit you."

"Well, thank you." He looks daggers at me and I giggle before taking a deep breath. "Stevens."

"Emma Stevens ?"

"No, I lied to you, my name's not Emma, it's Gertrude."

"What the -"

"Just kidding !" I cut him in a singsong voice that makes him laugh.

"You're stupid."

"Thank you very much." We're back on the street, now. I flash a glance to the devastated building across the avenue, wondering how many people got hurt today. Or worse. Peter seems to catch my expression and he grabs my hand for one second before saying in a quiet voice :

"We were lucky. Less than twenty people were trapped in the fire, and they were all rescued in time. Oh, and your spider-friend was here to help, too."

"Yeah, I know, I've seen him." I nod, in the same time relieved to know that no one got hurt, and distracted by his fingers around mines. "What about you ? What did you do ? Where did you get that ?" I point his burn on his cheek and he shrugs, letting go of my hand.

"Don't remember. I just, I helped uh, to calm down people." Again he's avoiding my gaze and I frown, wondering if somehow he's not lying to me. But why would he ? I try to think of an explanation, but I must admit I can't find one. But maybe I'm imagining things. "Anyway, uh, look, you managed to descend those stairs without fainting !"

_Whoa. What an inconspicuous change of subject !_

For the first time, I actually agree at two hundred percent with the little voice. But Peter looks somehow so uncomfortable that I've not the heart to point that out. "Shut the fuck up, Parker."

"With pleasure, Stevens."

And we keep arguing and talking about stupid things all our way back. We take the bus – Spider-man would be proud of me because I catch it, this time – and Peter insists to 'escort' me till my Aunt and Uncle's house. When I ask him why, he just shrugs, of course, and then changes the subject, and that's when I realize how good he is at that kind of thing. From the moment I start to pay attention to it, it becomes obvious that he's hiding me things. Or at least _has _to hide things. Anytime I bring on a subject that makes him shrug or frown, I can be sure he's going to talk about something else. And _that _happens more than once.

It doesn't take me a lot of time to realize that he's always avoiding things that are linked to Spider-man, or to the incident of this afternoon. So I try to trap him. And yes, in case you're wondering, I feel really, really ashamed of that, but I also really, really want to know _why_ he doesn't want to speak about that, and that's enough to cheer me on.

And that's probably why, when the bus stops – which is at about 5 minutes of my Aunt's house – and we get off the bus, I take a deep breath and ask in a casual voice :

"So you know Spider-man, right ?"

"What ?" He sounds shocked and stares at me with bulging eyes that would have made me laugh if I wasn't that determined to get the answer to my question. "Why, what the... What makes you think that ?"

"Dunno, it seems that you did, back on the roof." Men, I shouldn't have said that. Now he's going to lead the subject on what we said, back on the roof, and I know _exactly_ what he's going to say.

"What ? When I was asking you if you were in love with him ?" Bingo. I'm stupid. Peter shrugs, an amused smile appearing on his face. "Nah, that wasn't..."

"Why do you keep changing subject anytime I talk about him, then ?" I cut, raising an eyebrow at him. He bits his lip and rushes a hand through his hair. How typical of a red-handed guy, I think.

"It's not, it's just, I, well, uh. I've, I've no idea what you're talking about, it's -"

"Come on Peter, I'm not as stupid as I look ! You were absolutely avoiding everything dealing with that guy, back on the bus and even right now ! The question is, why ?"

"Yeah, you're right, _why_ are you questioning me like that ?" He retorts a bit bitterly and I cringe, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at him shockingly. He stops too and frowns. "What ?"

"Nothing."

He sighs and shakes his head, moving forwards me as I fold my arms. "Emma... I have good reasons not to talk about him."

"And those reasons are ?" He closes his eyes for one second and presses his fingers against his eyelids, and I suddenly realize how maddening I am. "Whoa. Sorry about that. Just... Forget what I just said, this was stupid." He opens his eyes again and stares at me with a startled face that almost makes me laugh. "You... you certainly have good reasons not to talk about him, yeah, and that's not my business, not at all. Sorry about that, Peter, really."

"Yeah, right. Don't worry about it, it's nothing." He smiles and I smile back – and I regret it as soon as he opens his mouth to add : "And anyway, I'm not as _obsessed_ by him as you are."

"I'm not _obsessed_ !" He bursts out of laugh and I knock him on his belly with what I think is the most powerful blow I can manage, but it only makes him laugh harder. I sigh and restart to walk, clenching my fists as I hear him following me and giggling behind me. "Stop that Parker, you sound like a twelve year-old girl."

"Well, I guess that _you_ are the twelve year-old one, desperately in love with Spider -"

"Shut up, you -"

"Emma !" I turn my head and catch a smiling gaze on the other side of the street.

"Woups, that's my Uncle !" I say to Peter, as the man crosses the road to meet us. A word about him, before continuing : he is a scientist and a former science teacher in high school, and he's also my favorite uncle ever. Part because he always gave us candies when we were little, Jack, Lily and I, and part because he's the one who offered my brother and I to come in NYC after Lily's death. "Hey, Uncle Ray !"

He hugs me for one second with a huge smile, as usual, then says in his happy voice : "My lovely niece ! How are you doing ?"

"I'm great, I'm OK, how was your day ?" I ask, returning him his smile. Then I remember Peter and I open my mouth to present him, but my Uncle cuts me before I can :

"Boring, as usual ! Nah, just kidding, and who's your friend, right here -" He turns to Peter and the latter moves forward him with an expression of seriousness I've never seen on his face before.

"Mr Warren."

"Oh, Mr Parker, what a coincidence !" My Uncle says with a smile as Peter and him shake hands. "It's been a long time, how are you doing ? How's college going ?"

"Wait, wait !" I say, before Peter could answer anything. "You guys know each another ?"

"Yes, of course, Peter was one of my best students back in high school ! Along with the wonderful Gwen Stacy of course. I've heard you two majored in science, am I correct ?"

"Uh. Yeah, I, yeah, we're in the same class."

"I guess you both are fighting to keep the first place, aren't you ? My God, you should have seen them in Mid Town, Emma, it was really fun to watch !" He shakes his head with an indulgent smile and winks to my attention. "But I bet my hat Gwen was taking that more seriously than you were, Peter !"

"Um. Maybe." I launch him a glance and realize how uncomfortable he looks. I open my mouth, either to ask him what's going on, either to ease him, but again my Uncle doesn't let me the time to.

"Ah, wonderful, wonderful Gwen. Never seen a girl as smart and voluntary as her. And beautiful. Yes, yes, beautiful. You look a lot like her, Emma !"

I wait for Peter to make an uproarious comment on that but he doesn't. He's now staring at his shoes just as if they were the most awesome thing on earth, and I think, hell I've never seen him like that before. I wonder for one second if that girl, that Gwen Stacy, is somehow important for him. Her name is familiar to me, although I have no idea where I've heard it before. But that's not important right now. I had never thought I would witness such sadness and guilt in those brown eyes. But that's what I see in them, right now. And that kills me, I must admit it.

"Anyway, where did you two meet ?" My Uncle asks after a moment of silence. "Are you going out tonight, Em ?"

"What ? No, we just, we, uh, we just spent some time together but we're not, we're just, um. Peter was, um, bringing me back home, that's all." God, why am I stammering like that especially right _now_ ? I'm stupid.

"I see, I see." My Uncle nod, with a smile that tells 'prepare to an interrogation as soon as he'll be gone !' and I sigh, looking away from him, embarrassed. "Don't forget Miles is coming for dinner tonight, Emma ! I'm helping your aunt, but make sure not to be late !" He turns to Peter and adds with a gentle smile : "It was nice to see you, Peter, say hello to Gwen for me !" And with that he leaves, whistling merrily as he heads to the house.

I turn to Peter and catch his gaze, which now seems oddly empty. "Sorry about that, uh, my Uncle, he's... he's a bit too playful, sometimes."

"Yeah, I know, I remember him being like that even as a teacher."

I wait for him to add something, anything, but he doesn't. An uneasy silence settles for a while until I finally ask, almost desperate to relax the atmosphere. "So you... you're in college ?"

"Um. Yeah."

"That's cool, that's nice." I say with a smile, hoping he would smile back, but now he's avoiding my gaze, his hands plunged into his pockets. I've never seen him like that before. I'm a bit tempted to ask where has gone the real Peter, but instead of that, I take a less dangerous way. "And you, uh, you didn't have any class today ?"

He just shrugs, barely looking at me. "What... What about you ?"

"Oh, um. I'm still in High School, but um, I'm home-schooled since March because of, um, family problems."

"Oh. I see." He nods, and suddenly I'm sure that he actually _does _see, that he's aware, somehow, of why I've been home-schooled. Which is a stupid thing to be sure of, because how could he ? He doesn't know me any more than I know him.

Say something. I have to say something. "So uh, this Gwen, she's a friend of yours ?" As soon as I finish my sentence I realize it wasn't the right thing to ask _at all_. Well done, Stevens.

Peter's reaction is immediate. He cringes and bites his lower lip, and his voice suddenly goes hoarse as he quickly says : "I have, I have to go now. Um, some, some things I have to do, this was, this was nice, to see you and all, really, but uh..."

"Peter..." My heart seems to stop as I encounter his eyes and see again in them that pure sadness that clashes so much with the usual, noodle, mischievous Peter I know.

"I'm sorry, Emma." His fingers brush past my cheek and then he turns on his heel and leaves, and I don't manage to say anything to stop him because there's this sudden and _stupid_ and _absurd_ idea that rushes through my mind, and I'm too dazed to even think to open my mouth.

But that's definitely nonsense.

Peter Parker _can't_ be Spider-man. He just _can't_. This is completely ridiculous. _Completely _ridiculous.


	7. Chapter 7

_Meet Spider-man_

I stand dazed on the sidewalk for a moment, watching him until he disappears at the corner of the street, then I shake my head to wake myself up and head to my Aunt and Uncle's house, trying not to think about that stupid idea that just rushed through my mind. This is too ridiculous for me to pay attention to it. Definitely too ridiculous, and impossible.

The house is full of life when I enter it. My Aunt and Uncle are there, of course, but I also have the surprise to find a smiling Jack, helping with the dishes and dancing and singing a song along with the radio.

"Oh boy, it's going to rain tomorrow, that's for sure !" I exclaim playfully and he stops dancing just long enough to give me a finger – which earns him a pat on the head from my aunt. I laugh, then kiss both of them on the cheek before asking : "How can I help ?"

"Tell us about that boy we've heard of !" retorts my Aunt with a wink and dancing Jack approves loudly while wiping one plate. I look daggers at my uncle and he just shrugs and smiles evilly, eyes sparkling as he keeps cutting carrots.

"I'll make you pay for that." I tell him and he lets out an amused laugh.

"Was that the guy you told me about, sweetie ?" My Aunt asks.

"Yeah, _sweetie _?" mutters Jack and I give him a nudge on the ribs, raising my eyes to the ceiling. "Hey !"

"Enough, kids." falsely scolds my Uncle and we both laugh.

"Yeah, his name's Peter, but he's just a friend." I finally say, pretending to look casual even if I'm everything but casual right now.

"Oh, Peeeeteeeeeer !"

"Shat up Jack, you sound even more stupid than you already are."

"Nah, you're the one who's stupid !"

"Oh really ? Let me remind you that _I'm_ the older one, so you owe me respect !"

"Owe you _what_ ? Hope you're kiddin' ! _I'm_ the older one !"

"No no no, ask Mom and you'll see, _I_ was born the first."

"Can't be true. Look at yourself, you're too tiny to be the first one. Mom and Dad lied to you 'cause they didn't want you to be bitchy."

"Ah come on ! Just ask Mom and see what she'll say !"

"You two always argue about the same thing, don't you ?" asks my Uncle nonchalantly.

"Absolutely." Jack and I say in one voice, and we all burst of laugh.

"Oh, that must be Miles !" My Aunt then exclaims, as we can hear someone ringing the doorbell.

For half a second I imagine that it's not Uncle Miles – technically he's not our uncle, but anyway, we've always called him like that –, that it's someone else, either Peter or Spider-man – ah, it would definitely be fun if Mister Spandex suddenly appears to my Aunt and Uncle's door ! – but then I realize how stupid I am and I shake my head. I don't even need the little voice to curse myself, now. Good. Very good.

"Emma, move away ! How am I supposed to set the table if you stay there in the middle of the way, uh ? Stop thinking about your boyfriend and help me !"

"He. Is. Not. My. Boyfriend !" I articulate, clenching my fists in anger as I step aside.

"Yeah, yeah, I wouldn't be that sure, if I were you !"

"What the hell are you talking about ?" All I get as a response is a mischievous chuckle, but I don't get a chance to add anything – like revile him or something – because Uncle Miles barges in the kitchen, with his round glasses and his mustache. Like each and every time I've met him or seen him on a picture, I can't help thinking 'Oh gosh, he looks so much like Uncle Ray !', because that's actually true. Except for the glasses, they exactly look the same, with their premature baldness and their round face. We used to find them really funny when we were little, Jack, Lily and I.

"Oh my goodness, Emma look at you !"

"Hi, Uncle Miles." I say with a smile as he gently hugs me. He smells exactly the same as what I record from my childhood. A mix of cleanliness, disinfectant and laboratory. On one hand I kind of like it, but on the other... this is quite distasteful, especially as it's dinner time.

"It's been so much time, my goodness ! Last time I saw you you were that high !"

"You were, what, eight ?" adds my Aunt with a wild smile, as she helps my brother finishing to set the table.

"Something like that, yeah." I nod shyly, wondering if it's the right moment to say that the only thing I remember from that encounter is that that guy smelled really strange, back then. And he still does, by the way.

"And here's the big Jack !"

"Big Jack ?" I burst of laugh at the expression of my brother and manage nonetheless to hide it from Uncle Miles by diving my face in the napkins I'm holding and placing around the table.

"Yeah, that was how I called you, I remember you were eating everything you could reach !"

"Oh, he still does." I say in a casual tone and Jack looks daggers at me.

Hopefully, he doesn't get the chance to say anything – and I know he'd dream to find something compromising for me, for revenge – because my Aunt exclaims it's dinner time and we all gather around the table, chatting about the usual things, the weather, the work, blah blah blah. After a while, Uncle Miles starts looking a little more Jack and I and that's how begins the long how's-school-going-on questioning process. We share a look, my brother and I, and respond in a same vague voice at all his questions.

"So, do you intend to go in college ?"

Jack just shrugs, focusing on his spaghetti, and I bit my lip, guessing that I'm the one who's going to respond to that because I know how deeply college gives Jack the creeps. "Um, yeah."

"Fantastic !" exclaims Uncle Miles. "That doesn't surprise me at all, you've always been a very intelligent young woman, Emma."

"Thanks." I say, as Jack mumbles incomprehensible things in his plate.

"What do you wanna study ?"

Here we are. If I say the truth, we'll be on for two hours at least about how this is fantastic and how he can help me and how it doesn't surprise him at all. But if I lie, my aunt will frown and he'll guess that I lied and he'll be disappointed. No so many choice. God, Jack's going to kill me. "Um, Science, maybe ? I love biology."

"Oh fantastic !"

_Brace yourself, Miles Warren the eminent biology professor of the Empire State University is coming._

Oh, hello, little voice, I think. Jack sighs, to my left, and I wince. "Yeah ?" Just as I'd guessed, my two uncles spend the rest of the dinner talking about science and how I'm absolutely made up for this. I pretend to be interested, but in fact all I'm thinking is '_come, dessert, come, I beg you, please come and help we poor mortals_.'

But as we clear the table, Jack, my Aunt and I, I suddenly hear a name that awakes me. "... and the lovely Gwen Stacy, of course, along with the other students of Mid Town who graduated last year !"

"Ah, this girl is fantastic !" exclaims Uncle Miles, and I vaguely think Jack and I should probably call him 'Fantastic Miles' instead of 'Uncle Miles'. "Intelligent, willing, serious, someone you can really count on." He shakes his head and catches my gaze, smiling to me. "So, lovely Emma, how would you think about coming to my office one day ? I could show you what we're working on."

I raise an eyebrow, not sure if I hear him well. "What, really ? But I'm not –"

"Yes, there's no inconvenience to it, I assure you ! A brilliant girl like you, no one will oppose it !"

And _this _is how I find myself the next morning walking on the Empire State University Campus, my glasses on – I'm myopic, usually I wear contacts but today, somehow, it makes me feel more confident to wear them – worry at the idea of a possibly meeting with Peter and/or Gwen. Yesterday, after Uncle Miles left, I finally found where I heard her name, _Stacy_, before. She's the daughter of the police guy who got killed by the Lizard, one year ago. When I was seeking for information about Spider-man, I found out tons of articles mentioning him.

I don't really know why I feel nervous about the idea of meeting her. Maybe because I can't help feeling sad for her, about her dad I mean. I feel like I kind of know what she's going through, loosing someone she really cares for and all. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's way worse to loose your dad than your sister. I don't know. And I don't really want to know.

Uncle Miles is as enthusiastic as usual. He leads me to his laboratory and presents me to his assistant, a strange looking guy – I must admit he scares me a bit, with his emaciated face – named Anthony Serba. But he only has the time to start explaining me what they are working on – which is, cloning – because he's suddenly called elsewhere.

"Duty call, I'm sorry Em, stay here with Anthony, I'll be right back !"

_Great, you stay alone with the vampire-looked guy._

I shiver but anyway smile to the assistant, who's staring oddly at me from the other side of the lab. At the very moment I start thinking he's going to kill me and hide my body so well nobody would find it, someone enters the lab and I turn to them, relieved. As soon as my eyes lay on her, I know who she is. Uncle Ray is absolutely right. We look alike. A lot. This is really, really strange.

"Wow, cloning is going on well over here !" Her voice is less acute than mine, her eyes tend more on blue than mines, her skin is paler, her hair is shorter, she doesn't wear glasses. Otherwise, we are identical.

I laugh, then walk towards her to shake hands. "Hi, I'm Gwen Stacy."

"What ?" She cringes with bulging eyes.

"Nah, just kiddin' !" I exclaim jokingly, fearing that she'll make a cardiac arrest or something. "I'm Emma Stevens, Miles Warren's niece." Well, technically I'm not, since he's Uncle Ray's brother, but anyway. She's still staring at me, shocked, and I shake my head guiltily. "Sorry about that stupid joke, I'm not that bad, usually."

That's when she starts laughing, and I can't help my smile, somehow. "Don't worry about that, you just got me by surprise !" She shakes her head with an amused face. "I don't usually get an encounter with one of my clones."

"Oh yeah ? That's surprising, considering the fact that you're working in a cloning lab."

"Not technically working in it." She corrects me with a wink. "I just help sometimes. Pr Warren sent me a text saying something was waiting for me in the lab, so I guess it's you."

I shrug, then glance in Anthony's direction, who's still staring at us in this strange and scaring way he has to stare at people. "I don't know, he just left saying he had a duty call and was soon to be back, and that I had to stay with, um, him."

Gwen follows my gaze and winces. "OK, come on then, I do the visit."

"That guy's a bit... scary." I mutter to her, once I'm sure we're too far from him for hearing.

"Oh boy, he always scares me to death, anytime I see him !" She nods before adding, just as if she was trying to be kind : "But he's nice... I guess." I chuckle and she does too, and it's hard after that to stare at Anthony without giggling like two complete idiots.

Gwen shows me everything. She introduces me to their work on molecular cloning, explains me how they work on some DNA sequences, how they break them apart, glue them in a desire sequence and insert them back into cells. It's a long, long process, she says, because living form contains trillion of cells, and you need to clone each of them. But somehow the work is progressing well, the results are encouraging, Uncle Miles is happy. I ask about the cross species genetics too, because I remember reading something about that, earlier this year, and she tells me a bit about it, saying that his ex-mentor, the Dr Connors, was found of that process, but it's clear that she's not really thrilled to talk about that and I choose not to insist on it.

Considering the fact that those experiments are what partly caused her father's death, it's understandable.

When noon arrives, my head is full of chromosomes and proteins, and I must admit I'm in a really good mood, because I haven't let myself really enjoying something since a long, long time. Something being, RNA and biological molecules, yeah, but anyway, I finally let myself have a little fun, so who cares what it was all about ? My Aunt would be glad. Jack would be glad. Everyone would be glad. So I'm glad.

"I'm supposed to meet MJ at the cafeteria, would you like to come ?" asks Gwen as we leave the lab, after we said goodbye to Anthony the Vampire.

"Oh, I don't wanna bother you with your –"

"Come on, Em ! If I'm offering it to you, that means it doesn't bother me at all !" She exclaims, shaking her head, and I can't help smiling. "So, are you coming ?"

"Beh, seems I don't have a choice." I falsely mumble and she laughs. "So, who's MJ ?"

"Ow, how could I describe Mary Jane ? Hmmm..." She bits her lip, frowning in concentration, then an amused smile appears on her face. "All the way positive and exuberant, somehow a party animal. She's a born-actress and majored in Psychology." I smile to the portrait, wondering how in hell steady and thoughtful Gwen would stay with such a girl. "And most of all, she's a true friend."

"I guess you're talking about me, right ?"

I turn to my left and catch two green eyes staring at us from the other side of the corridor. The girl – Mary Jane, I guess – walks towards us, with her red hair, her pale skin, her beautiful thin silhouette and that kind of insurance that's often seen in people who doesn't, in fact, have much self-confidence. "Hey, MJ !" says Gwen with a smile. "Let me introduce you to my friend Emma, she's the –"

"Nice t'meet you Emma !" Mary Jane cuts her, waving her hand in front of my face with a quick smile. "Let's get something to eat, I'm definitely starving !"

The portrait Gwen made of her is absolutely truthful. We haven't spent more than ten minutes together than she's already demonstrated each of the features Gwen mentioned to me. As we head to the cafeteria, listening to her speech about how much Harry Osborn – I don't even have an idea of who he is, but from what I heard, he's not the kind of guy my Mom would like me to date – is a true asshole, I can't help wondering again how Gwen and MJ became friends. Because, really, it would be hard to find two more different girls.

Just as that thought comes to my mind, I suddenly bump into someone and raise my head to see how this could be. And my heart falls in my chest. "Whoa, Parker, watch it !" I exclaim, half-amused, half-annoyed as I catch his goddam brown eyes. Here he is, frowning at me, his bag on one hand, his skateboard on the other, and I can't help my smile when I realize we have almost the same glasses.

_You have boy glasses, well done Stevens, what a great demonstration of femininity._

"Emma ? What the – Hey. Hey hey hey, wait, you –"

"Hi, Peter." Gwen cuts in a careful voice that startles me and I turn to her to see her steady face, her lips pursed and her eyes focusing harshly on Peter.

The boy opens his mouth, suddenly looking mortified. "H-hi Gwen, um, you –"

"And hi MJ." says the latter, theatrically raising her eyes to the sky with an exasperated face.

Peter turns to her with uncertain eyes, then to me, then back to her, clearly avoiding Gwen's gaze. "Hi, Mary Jane." He clears his throat, trying to recompose himself, maybe. "So you, um, how, um, since when... since when you guys know each other ?"

Is it me or is he staring at me like this was _my fault_ ? Seriously, what's wrong with that guy ! "Well, since about... two hours." I say, as none of the girls seem to want to respond him.

"I thought you were in High School." He retorts in a somehow annoyed tone, scowling in my direction, and I can't help scowling back before answering :

"I am. But Pr Warren, who's my Uncle's brother, offered me to take a look to his research, so here I am." He makes a face and his eyes fall on the ground, just as if he suddenly felt guilty. "Why, does that bother you ?"

"No ! No of course not, I –"

"Damn you Peter !" I jump at Gwen's sudden angry tone and watch her quickly walk away, positively stunned. What the hell is going on ? I don't have to think a lot before turning to Peter with a frown. But he doesn't let me the time to ask anything. I catch his sad and guilty brown eyes and he shakes his head.

"I should go." And with that he leaves in the opposite direction, putting on his hood and his hands in his pockets. I watch him go then turn to MJ, who's biting her lower lip, maybe in anxiousness, maybe in hungry.

"Whoa, what's wrong with those two ?" I ask, before I can stop myself.

"I wish I knew !" She exclaims in an exasperated tone. "But Gwen won't tell me. And believe me, I've tried."

Well, that doesn't surprised me, I think with a grin. "I've never seen him that upset." I say in a sad tone, which is a bit embarrassing.

"He is _always_ upset when Gwen's around. And the opposite's true, of course." She pauses for a second then launches me a somehow suspicious look. "Anyway, how is it you know him, uh ?"

"Um. We met a few days ago, by chance."

She stays quiet for a moment, but just as I decide she won't believe me, she nods, and makes something that sounds like 'humpf'. "OK, let's find Gwen and eat, I'm near to starve."

It takes us almost ten minutes to find Gwen. When we finally do, she follows us to the cafeteria in silence, smiling at each and every comments MJ does. But it is clear that she's on the edge to cry. I don't know if MJ is aware of that or if she's too occupied expatiating on herself. Maybe that the way she always comforts Gwen. I don't know if it works or not, but as I only know Gwen for this morning, I guess I can trust MJ.

So I let her solace the blonde, wondering again and again how two great people like Peter and Gwen would possibly come at this kind of exchange when they seem to be somehow so close to one another.

Because those two are – or at least _were_ – close, there's no doubt of it.

* * *

**Hello hello !**

**Okey, less Peter in this one, but I hope you like it anyway ! I promise there'll be more of him (and of Spidey, too) in the next chapter ! :)**

**Thanks a lot for your lovely reviews ! :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello ! :D**_  
_

**OK, here's chapter 8, hope you'll like it ! Thanks A LOT for all your reviews, they make me smileeeee ! :D**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

I spend my all afternoon with Gwen in the lab. I manage somehow to make her smile – in saying stupid things, as usual –, even if I thought that would be impossible since she looked so upset after the encounter with Peter. Uncle Miles joins us not so long after we came back from lunch and we work together on their stuff – without Vampire Anthony who seems to be elsewhere, to my huge relief, I must admit it.

As time goes by, it becomes obvious to me that Uncle Miles, really, really likes Gwen. In a somehow paternal way, but still it seems a bit strange. I can't say in what precisely, but anyway that's the way I feel about it.

I leave the lab around 5pm. I say bye to Gwen and Uncle Miles, promise to come back anytime, then take off my blouse and leave the building, happy to finally return to the open air. As I walk to the output of the campus, I realize how hard I wish I could bump into Peter again. Where could he possibly be ? I've no idea. I know he leaves in Queens, but hey, I'm not stupid enough to think I could find him there. So where could I possibly go, to see him ? I want to talk to him. I want to ask him about Gwen. I want to argue with him, the way we always do, funnily, kindly, lightly. I want to tell him what I thought last night and I want him to say that I'm stupid, that he's not Spider-man, and we'd laugh together at my stupidity. Yeah, I want that. Definitely.

I'm stupid.

_Yes, you are._

Oh god, I'm absolutely talking to myself, right ? This sucks.

"Emma ?"

I raise my head and my heart starts pounding happily in my chest as I catch two brown eyes staring at me. Here he is, with his glasses and his skateboard, his mussed hair and his mischievous grin, and I can't help myself thinking, _god_ he is so cute. I can't think of a cuter guy, seriously. Stupid, stupid. I smile to him, and he carefully smiles back. "Peter."

"Do you, um... what about, er, do you want me to, to walk you home ?" I bit my lip while smiling and silently nod. He takes a deep breath and we start walking side by side on the sidewalk, leading towards the nearest bus stop. But as I stop by it, Peter passes a hand through his hair and asks casually : "Um, does that bother you if we, ya know, if we walk ?"

"Nah, no problem." I say, a bit surprised I must admit it. We resume our walking and stay quiet for a while, until I feel so embarrassed about his strange silent that my palms start to sweat. "So um, how was your day ?"

"It was good, yeah, um, interesting, I mean, uh, I, I... worked on some stuff." He bits his lip and smiles somehow awkwardly at me. "What about yours ?"

"It was cool." I say, smiling. "Very cool. I learned tons of things, ya know."

"About cloning ?"

"How do you –"

"Well, you mentioned the fact that Pr Warren was you Uncle's brother, when we, uh, you know."

"Oh. Yeah, that's true." Considering his scowl, he's not willing to talk about that _at all _so I decide to avoid the subject. For the time being. "Yeah, anyway, that was really something, and now I know for sure I wanna study biology."

"I'd never thought you'd like stuff like that." Peter says, shaking his head, and I frown.

"Why not ?"

"Don't know, it's just, well, I thought you were more like, um, on literary stuffs." He chuckles, at my grumpy face certainly, and quickly adds : "But I'm stupid, since you're dad's a doctor."

"I'm not my dad !"

"That's not what I said !"

"Yeah, anyway, how did you know that ?"

"Well, you mentioned it when we were on the..."

"Yeah, I know, but before that ? Because I'm absolutely _sure_ I had never mentioned it before and you still said 'Oh, that's true' when I did, so how did you know it ?"

He stares at me in shocked and I almost burst of laugh because his face is so cutely ridiculous. "Um." After that he remains silent for a while, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head to find a credible lie. But as he opens his mouth, I raise my hand and shake my head.

"Never mind."

"What ?"

"Never mind." I repeat, just as if he was mentally disabled.

He stares at me for a couple of seconds, then an amused smile emerges on his lips. "You're quite strange, Miss Stevens."

"And you like it ?" Wow. Did I really say _that_ to Peter Parker ? I feel my cheeks starting to burn and he lets out a little laugh.

"Yeah, I kinda think so." He says after a while, and my heart just falls in my chest as he does with his mischievous and handsome eyes fixed on mines.

"Great." I clear my throat, wondering since when I'm that extrovert. Since never, I guess. "So, um, anyway, what's, what's going on between you and Gwen ?" Oops. I didn't intend to be that direct, but now it's too late, I guess.

Peter freezes and frowns. "What are you talking about ?" Oh great, he's already withdrawing into himself like an oyster into its shell. Well done, Stevens.

I make a face and shrug. "Dunno, you just gave me the impression that you two were, well, furious at one another ?" As Peter sniffs, avoiding my gaze, I raise an eyebrow. "You're not ?"

"No."

"Oh." I hardly resist to the urge to exclaim 'liar' and shrug again. "I thought so. Why did she leave like that, then ?"

"I, it's not, well, um." He stammers for a while before raising his arms to the sky with an exasperated face. "God, I have no idea !"

"OK, OK, calm down, I was just asking !" He scowls and I scowl back, thinking with an intern grin that _this_ is really something about us. I wait for him to apologize, but he doesn't. We walk in silence for a while, side by side, weaving between bystanders. I glance at him more than once, hoping that he'll say something, but he doesn't. His face is strangely neutral, just as if he was trying to hide something. I'm absolutely dying to know what. "So..."

"Emma, I'm sorry." He says, at the same time. Our eyes meet and we stare at one another for a second, waiting to cross the street. Peter bites his lip and scratches the back of his neck. "Um."

"Why are you sorry ?" I ask, realizing afterward how curious my voice sounded.

"Because, because, well. I shouldn't have, well, back to the, the moment when, uh, we met, um, with, with Gwen and Mary Jane, I... I shouldn't have –"

"You shouldn't have what ?"

"I wasn't, uh." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Well, you're, you're right. There is something going on between, between Gwen and I, but it's, there's nothing, I mean, it has nothing to do with, with you, and I, I'm sorry if that, well, if that embarrassed you."

The light goes green for pedestrians and I catch his hand. His eyes fly open and meet mines and I smile gently before lead him on the other sidewalk. "Don't worry about that." I say in a soft voice that startles me as much as him.

"What ? No, really, I'm –"

"Besides, I have to apologize, too."

"For what ?" His doubtful tone makes me smile happily, I don't even know why.

"For interrogating you about it."

"Oh." He grins and shakes his head. "Don't. Don't be sorry, I mean, you were quite right to do so, you know, it's –"

"Oh, so _you_ have the right to be sorry and _I_ haven't ?"

He frowns and then laughs, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But as he opens his mouth to retort something, he is cut. Cut by nothing more than an explosion. I vaguely think something like, '_hell what's wrong with you, New York City ?_', then I raise my head, my heart pounding so fast in my chest that it hurts.

We're at the bottom of the Oscorp Tower. The tallest skyscraper of NYC, if I remember well what Uncle Ray told me. Full of scientists working for the well-known industrial Norman Osborn. Or so I've heard. Anyway. That's not the point here. Not at all.

The point is that its top is burning. _Burning_. Even if it seems to be happening _miles_ away, I can see flames eating everything up, huge, huge flames, not red, nor white, nor yellow. Green. Green flames. I've never seen anything like that before. People are screaming around me, but it takes me time to understand why. Maybe because there's a guy up there. A flying guy. A green flying guy. A green flying guy throwing what seems to be little bombs at the building.

Sirens are howling, people are shouting, flames are devastating. And the guy's laughing. I hear it. I hear his laugh. His creepy, sadistic laugh. I freeze, my stomach sinks in my heels. I can't move. I'm so afraid I can't move.

And then Peter grips me by the shoulders and forces me to face him. "Emma !" I frown at his sudden almost violent tone and open my mouth, but he doesn't let me the time to say something – which would have certainly be '_there's a guy throwing bombs at a tower, what can we do ?_', so I guess it's in fact better. "Emma, listen to me ! Go home, I'll see you there I promise, but _do not_ stay here !"

"What the –"

"Emma, _please_."

"OK, OK !"

"Good." He kisses me on the forehead then plunges his handsome eyes in mines. "See you then."

"See ya –" But he's already gone. I have no idea where. All I know is that I want to figure it out. So I decide not to listen to him. A policeman catches my attention and orders me to step aside. He seems worried. Well, this is far to be surprising. I do as he says and cross back the street, following the mass of people the police is trying to break up. And I look for Peter. I look for any tall nerdy-looking brown-eye guy, with a blue backpack and a skateboard.

And all I get is a flash of red and blue at the corner of my eyes.

There it is again. That glint of suspicion rushing through my mind as I watch Spider-man swing towards the green guy. Peter's gone for less than three minutes. Now Mister Spandex appears. Is it a coincidence ? Most of my brain yells me that it's not.

"Spider-man !"

The cry is taken up by several people and, somehow, the relief that spreads from their voice makes me smile. All those people, they trust him. Peter, Spider-man, whoever. They can't see his face, but they know that he'll save them. Like a hero. A hero. It's somehow a strange concept, a concept I had always left to children stories. A preconceived idea, because there's not such a thing like a masked man saving people from bad guys. Heroes don't exist. Or so it's what I thought. But Spider-man, whoever he might be, truly _is_ a hero. That's a weird moment to realize it, since I've read so much things about him. But read facts is nothing compared to experience them.

Hero. What a great job. And what a great responsibility, too.

My neck hurts because I have to crane it up to see what's happening up there. Spider-man is approaching the green guy carefully and I take one second to knead my nape a bit, grimacing. There are two boys around twelve maybe, right next to me, and I stretch out my ear in their direction. They're commenting the action, betting which one of the two guys will win, and I frown as one of them mentions what seems to be the name of the green guy.

"Hey, you know that guy up there ?" I ask curiously, and the two stare at me with scoffing smiles.

"F'course we do !" says one while the other shakes his head just as if he was thinking '_seriously, are you dumb or something ?_'. "That's the Green Goblin, everyone knows him ! Where are you from, Alaska ?" And with that they leave, muttering to one another about how stupid I am. But I don't care. I don't need two kids to tell me that I'm stupid. I already have a little voice in my head, for that. Wow, this sounds creepy. And insane.

I raise my head again. Spider-man seems to be talking to the green guy, now. The Green Goblin. What a goofy name for a scaring creature like that. I wish I could hear what they're saying. At the exact moment that thought comes to my mind, the flying guy decides speech is not the right way to deal and he throws a bomb at his interlocutor. Screams rise from the crowd but hopefully P- Spider-man manages to hurl it on the green flames and it explodes without hurting anyone. People lets out a sigh of relief and so do I. Then I scold myself.

Why on _hell_ am I tempted to call him Peter ? Jeez ! I'm stupid.

Spider-man is still trying to reason the green guy but it becomes obvious – after two other bomb shots – that he doesn't want _at all_ to be reasoned. And so the fight begins. I press my hands reflexively on my mouth as the two dive into the green fire and disappear from our sight. The police is trying to disperse the crowd but it seems impossible. And anyway, I don't care. All I want is to be sure Spider-man's all right.

_You'll be on for another nurse-time, after that !_

I bit my lip, partly hoping that the little voice's right, because that would mean he's alive, partly hoping that she's wrong, because _that _would mean he doesn't get hurt. What a paradox. Another explosion occurs. The fighters are nowhere to be seen. People around me are whispering to one another in anxious tones. My heart is pounding really hard in my chest. It becomes somehow hard to swallow because my throat is too tight. I'm scared. I'm deadly scared. But all I can do, all _we_ can do, because it's the same thing for everyone down here, is wait.

Ten years pass. Or maybe ten seconds, I don't know. Then a huge explosion happens. And my heart stops. The strength of the detonation propels him in the sky and the thousands of people around me hold their breath at the same time. Then he starts to fall. And he's not moving. Not moving at all. He falls fast. Really, really fast. Too fast. He's not doing anything. The crowd starts to scream, and I don't realize that I'm screaming, too.

"No !"

He's going to die ! Die right in front of me, just like Lily did ! And I can't do anything ! _Anything anything anything anything_. I feel a surge of pain as my nails dig into the skin of my arms, but I don't care. My eyes follow his fall and I close them the hardest I can, praying God or anyone else who's watching this right now to _save him_. Save him, please. Save him, save him, save him. I'm begging you, save him.

Sigh of relief. My eyes fly open. My shoulders relax a bit. I thank God or whoever is responsible of this miracle. Spider-man somehow has managed to throw one of his cable and is now getting ready to propel himself back on the top of the Oscorp Tower, where that crazy scary Green Goblin is waiting. Maybe I'm imagining it, but it feels like his eyes, behind his mask, lay on me for just a micro second before he releases his grip and flies back to the roof. I wince as he does, my eyes following him until he disappears again.

Great, he knows I'm still here. Guess who's in trouble, now.

I scold myself again, because I really don't want to think that Peter _is_ Spider-man. He can't be, that's too ridiculous ! But there are tons of things that can prove it's true, I know it. But I choose not to think about them. Not right now, actually. Maybe later. We'll see. If I see him again. I could ask him. Yeah, that's what I should do. That's what I'm going to do. Yeah.

I don't know how many times they stay up there fighting. Nobody can see them, and _that_'s the worst. I have no idea how many times I actually think '_This is it, he's dead._' Millions of times, certainly. This is awful. We can't see anything. We can't hear anything. All we can do is wait, wait, wait. This is the worst feeling. The waiting. I wish I could travel in time to see what will happen to Spider-man. I don't want him to die. I really don't.

A NYPD' helicopter is approaching. Shouting to them to freeze and cease the fight. The crowd all falls silent at once. We keep waiting. My stomach is so tight that it feels like I'm going to throw up. And we wait. There seems to be no more moves up there. Time almost seems to have stopped. And my heart does too.

Then one of those little bombs flies towards the helicopter and people starts screaming. I watch the tiny thing melt on the NYPD' helicopter, frozen by fear. It is too close, they can't dodge it. Even them know it. Someone tries to fire it but the thing is too small and they miss it. Some people starts to run away. Most of the others are too scared to move. I'm part of those ones. The only thing that crosses my mind is that life in NYC is pure chaos. I wonder if it was a good idea to come, ultimately.

Then what seems to be a web flows towards the bomb and catches it. New sigh of relief from the crowd. The helicopter goes away. The web draws back to the top of the tower and hits some rubble and explodes. I press my hand on my mouth again as Spider-man jumps from the roof and starts falling. There's another explosion and the green guy is ejected from the roof too. He manages somehow to steady himself on whatever he's using to fly and quickly runs away. Spider-man doesn't chase him. I guess he's too busy trying to slow down his fall. He seems hurt. Obviously.

My eyes follow him as he swings across the street, above the crowd. He disappears behind one building and I swear. I have no idea why I'm doing this but I run in the same direction, squeezing through the crowd, maybe hoping to find him. I know there is a few chances I do. But it doesn't stop me from trying.

And it appears that today, somehow, I'm lucky. As I'm running in what seems to be the ESU's direction, I see him in the distance, landing on the top of a little building. I don't hesitate. Despite my vertigo, I rush to its fire escape and start climbing. I have no memory of the ascent. All I know is that somehow I'm suddenly on the roof, with the sun with my eyes, staring at what seems to be a well-known silhouette.

He's taken off his mask. I would recognize those hair anywhere.

"Peter ?"

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**Um. I don't know if I'm really good at describing action so... forgive me if you find it bad xD **

**If you have any suggestions, feel free to make them ! :D**


	9. Chapter 9

_Meet Spider-man_

He freezes and I blink in the bright sun, suddenly unsure whether it's Peter or not. But then he slowly turns and I gasp. "Peter !" I rush to him and catch his arm as he stumbles on his feet. "Oh my... Peter, you're hurt ! Oh my, oh my, let me –"

"Emma, you sh..." He swallows hard and tries to focus on my face, which seems to be somehow difficult for him and I can't help thinking stupidly _'oh my god, he's going to die_'_._ "You can't, you can't stay here, he could come back, please –"

"I'm not leaving you here." I retort in a firm voice that startles him as much as myself. "We have to hide, at least enough time to take a look at your wounds. You can't fight him back in that state."

"What if –"

"No, you listen to me, Peter. I'm _not_ going to change my mind, so there's not point in trying, got it ?"

He stares at me in silent for a moment, his left hand tightened firmly around my elbow just as if he was scared to let me go. Then his goddamn mischievous smile spreads on his face. "Emma Stevens, you are definitely awesome."

"Yeah, you tell me about that." I falsely mumble, blushing harder than I've ever had. I lean to catch his mask on the floor, hoping that it would hide the fact that his compliment moves me _a lot_. But it doesn't. Obviously. He must have seen it because when I meet his eyes again, he's smiling playfully. "OK, off we go now." I stammer like an idiot, holding his mask in my left hand. I offer him my arm and he gently catches it. I shiver as we begin to walk, not quite sure of what I feel about him being Spider-man. Because it's obvious he is, right now. But anyway. I act as casual as I can, because it's not what really matters, right now.

"So, where to Miss ?"

He said that to me once. Spider-man said that to me. The first time we met, on that roof. I wonder if he is schizophrenic or something. Then I register how soft his tone is and I swallow hard, my heart pounding faster than it should. "This way." I say, avoiding his gaze, pointing to what seems to be a little house leading to the stairs, I guess. This will do. I hope so. We head to it in silence, and I must admit I'm absolutely frightened at the idea of the green flying guy coming back to finish us off.

Peter must feel my tension because he walks as fast as his injuries let him, his breathing becoming spasmodic and his hand tightening so hard around mine that it hurts. We somehow make it to the little 'shelter' – I have absolutely no idea how to call that – without being attacked and I let out a sigh of relief when I manage to open the door. We stumble in a stairwell and I help Peter siting against the wall.

"Easy, Mister Spandex." I mutter in his ear and he cringes a bit before relaxing. I make sure he's well seated then close the door enough for us to see but not to be seen. Then I kneel beside Peter and bit my lip in anxiousness. "OK, where are you hurt ?"

"Wait, wait, I have, I have to tell you something." He cuts in a weak voice that scares me to death. I stop my hands, which were already starting to take off the upper part of his suit, and frown.

"What ?"

He takes a deep breath, his eyes looking strange and distant in the faint light. "I'm Spider-man."

I stare at him for a minute, stunned, then let out a mocking laugh. "Seriously, Pete ? I would never have guessed that alone !"

"You called me Pete."

"What ?" I frown again, having no idea why he's suddenly saying that. "Yeah, I did, why, does that bother you ?"

"No, no it doesn't ! Actually, this is quite nice. Cute. You're cute."

"Oh my... Peter, what's wrong ?"

"Nothing !" He frowns, then smiles dreamily at me. "I feel great, really. Actually it's quite, quite strange, I'm like. Whoa. Whoa, Emma, I'd never thought I would say that but you're –"

"Hush !" I cut him, putting a finger on his lips, fear rushing in my heart. "You're not in your normal state, Peter, it's –"

"What are you talking about ?" He says, catching my hand in his and kissing it softly. "I'm wonderful." He leans towards me, his eyes fixed on mines, and that's when I see it. The gaping wound on the base of his neck. "You're wonderful."

I dodge his lips – and that almost gives me an heart attack, by the way – and force him to turn to take a close look to the wound. And my heart sinks in my chest. This is awful. "You're hurt."

"Am I ?"

"Yeah. Oh God this is bad." I've never seen a wound looking that dreadful. How in hell am I supposed to deal with that ? It needs stitches, that's for sure. My heart's pounding faster and faster, and my palms start to sweat. Is it because of the atrocious wound in front of me or because of those fingers brushing my bare wrists and arms ? I have no idea, but it feels just as if my mind had suddenly stopped working. "Peter, stop that."

"Why would I ?"

"Because it's not..." I swallow hard and bit my lip, wondering why words are suddenly that hard to say. "... the right moment."

"Why ? I think it _is_ the right moment."

"No !" I'm turning crazy. Definitely. Turning. Crazy. His right hand leaves my arm to land on my waist while his left hand reaches for my cheek. I shake my head and close my eyes for a second, trying desperately to compose myself. "Stop it, Peter. You'll regret it."

"I won't." He mutters, and my eyes fly open unwittingly. And my heart stops. There he is, a few inches away from me, his goddamn handsome gaze fixed on me. Brown eyes. Pale skin. Half-closed lips. So close, _so_ close. I have an awful lot of troubles to find my next few words.

"You will. You're not OK, Peter. This wound makes you delirious."

Sadness spreads into his eyes but I have no time to add anything that he's already moving back and frowning. "You don't like me."

"What ? Of course I like you ! But Pete, listen, you're not –"

"It's all that story about Gwen, right ?"

I open my mouth, dazed, but then realize that I'm unable to say anything. Just as if words had suddenly disappeared of my mind. Just as if I had forgotten how to speak.

Peter passes a trembling hand over his face, his words coming out of his mouth in a strange and hasty way. "Because, yeah, there was something, there was something between us, and I loved her, I _love_ her, but there's all that, that _thing_ about my promise, and... And she was so upset, and acted so weirdly, and, and then I tried to change things but she made it clear it was _too late_, but then anyway kept screaming at me and blaming it all on me, and, and Mary Jane agreed too, and both of them... Jeez, I swear, I swear I tried to fix it all but... But I failed. I royally failed. They're still mad at me, and Gwen... she hates me now. She hates me."

He seems on the edge to cry and it makes my throat tight so hard that it hurts, but I'm too shocked to speak. I'm not even sure I understand well what he's saying. The only thing that crosses my mind is that he's _wretched_. Peter Parker is wretched. And I don't want him to be like that. But I can't think of something to say to console him. And anyway he's not finished yet.

He takes a deep breath, his face still plunged in his fingers, then raises his head and meets my gaze. "And then you came. Then you came, and it was so easy, it _is_ so easy, like, like back in the beginning with– with Gwen. And it feels so simple, so natural to be with you, I know it sounds– it _is _very selfish of me to say that, but... but I wanted so hard to find a way back into these moments, and you –"

"Hush." I cut him with a smile, though I'm near to burst into tears, too. "Hush, Peter, you don't know what you're saying."

"Yes. Yes, I do, Emma. I'm the most selfish guy in the world, but _you_, you're fantastic. You're wonderful, you're _true_. Maybe I'm not really OK right now, but I mean it, I swear. I'm glad I fall in front of you, back to that night. I truly am."

I bit my lip, wondering where all that is leading. I realize a tear has escaped my carefulness and I hastily wipe it before smiling to him. "I'm glad, too." Oh god, am I seriously going to cry ?

"Are you ?"

Why does he seem _that_ surprised ? He truly has no idea of the effect he has on people – on me. I simply nod, because I know for sure my voice would break if I speak. We stay quiet for a moment, staring at each other. I wonder what he's thinking about, right now. There's absolutely no way to guess, with that neutral face of his. I wonder what his lips taste like. And I blush, and my gaze falls on his bare neck, on his deep wound. I wonder if he's suffering.

And so I speak. "We, we should take care of that thing. I think... I think you need stitches."

"It doesn't hurt, I assure you." He says with a shrug. He tries to stand but I prevent him to, frowning so hard that I can't help imagining my eyebrows are meeting above my eyes. "Emma..."

"You can't stay like that." I persist, and he raises his eyes to the ceiling with an exasperated face that almost makes me smile.

"I'm OK, really !"

I look him daggers and he lets out an amused laugh. "OK is not enough for you to –"

"OK is enough for Spider-man." He retorts in a playful tone that startles me. That guy is definitely moody. Two minutes ago he was delirious as hell, and now he's joking just as if everything was normal. I really don't get it. "And anyway, he won't come back, now."

I open my mouth, wondering for a second who he is talking about, then I frown in disbelief. "How can you –"

"I know him. It's not the first time we... met."

I stare at him and he somehow avoids my gaze, his eyes fixed on his gloves with a strange expression. An uncomfortable expression. Mixed with sadness and concern. "Who is he ?" I slowly ask, as the silence drags on.

He takes a deep breath before answering. "My best friend's father."

"Your best friend's..." I bit my lip in anxiousness. "Does he know who you are ?"

My question may be a bit vague, but he somehow gets what I'm talking about and shakes his head. "Not yet. But sooner or later he'll know."

"Whoa. That sucks." The words escape my mouth before I can hold them.

"Thank you, Emma." He teases me and I can't help my laugh.

"You're welcome !" He joins his laughter to mine with a wink and I let myself relax a bit. "So, what are we doing, now ?"

"Well, I walk you home and then –"

"Wait wait wait, what about your –"

"I'm fine Emma, I swear !"

"Liar." He cringes a bit and I add in an annoyed voice : "Why is it you were completely delirious two minutes ago, then ?"

"I don't, um." He scratches the back of his neck with an uneasy smile. "Well, I'm a quick-healer."

"Come on Parker, you're impossible !"

"I'm not the only one." He mumbles and I can't help but laugh because god he looks so childish right now. I had never thought I would see him sulk. He is even more adorable than usual. Who would have thought it would be possible, uh ?

_Oh God Emma, you're so stupid._

Hmpf. Yes I am. Quick. Find something to say. Otherwise, I'm going to seriously fall for that stupid guy. If it's not already done. "God, I've never met someone as stubborn as you."

"Thanks for the compliment." He winks and my heart goes crazy in my chest, for an unknown reason.

I gnash and sigh. "So I guess you're not going to let me disinfect that, right ?" I point his neck and he just shrugs, so I take that as a yes. "OK, but don't complain if you die, then."

"I'm not going to die, Emma." He says in that goddamn amused voice he always used when I say something that he finds pointless but cute.

"Oh yeah ?"

"I have too much things to do to die right now." He nods in a falsely pretentious tone that makes me laugh. "People who needs me, you know..."

"Yeah, I know. Well, about that I –"

"Later."

"What ?"

"We'll talk about that later, OK ?"

I scowl and he scowls back – of course. I sigh then look at him daggers. "You won't get away with my questions, Parker."

"Don't worry about that. No more lies, I promise."

I resist the envy to exclaim '_what, you lied to me ?_' just to tease him and nod silently. We stare at each other for a while, and I know he's wondering what I think about all this. To be honest, I am wondering about it, too. I have no idea what I'm feeling. The only thing that comes into my mind right now is '_how in hell is he going to walk me home like that ?_' I wait for him to say something but as he keeps staring at me in silent, I stretch a bit and ask casually : "So, I suppose you need me to bring you back all your stuff ? Unless you want to walk in the street with your suit on ?"

He lets out a little laugh then somehow shame spreads in his brown eyes. "Um, yeah ?"

"Don't look at me like that Parker."

"What– why ?"

Because if you don't, I'm going to die because of your goddamn perfection. "Because."

"Because what ?"

"Just because !"

"What– hey wait, you're confused !"

"Absolutely not."

"Liar !" He retorts in a sing-song tone and I feel my cheeks start to burn. "Yeah, right, I forgot that you were in love with Spider-man."

"I'm not in love with him !" He bursts of laugh and my heart falls in my chest as I realize what I just said. "I mean, with you ! It's, I mean, no, there's..." He's still laughing like a whale and I clench my fists in anger. "Shut up, Parker."

"You won't get away with my questions, Stevens." He says, in a perfect imitation of myself, and I almost let out a little laugh. "Tell me a bit about –"

"I thought you wanted to talk about that _later_ ?"

His smile is so wide that it becomes really hard not to smile back. "Yeah, you're right."

I swallow under his deep gaze and try to compose myself. "Great. Where have you left your backpack, then ?"

"You know, I think I'm fine, I can –"

"No way, Peter."

He gnashes and shakes his head, just as if his irritation wasn't already _that_ obvious. "It is too far for you, you know it's–"

"Peter, seriously !"

"OK, OK !" He sighs and extends his arm to reach the door and open it. "See that building over there ?"

"Yeap." It is not so far from here, in fact. I'll be there in something like ten minutes. If you do not count the time spend in descending the fire escape. Which will be something like, one century.

"I've not left it on the roof." explains Peter. "There's an aperture behind a dumpster, next to the fire escape. You'll see, it's not that complicated."

"Are you insinuating that I'm stupid ?" I falsely scold and he gives me his mischievous smile.

"Nah, I wouldn't dare !" I stick out my tongue at him and he shakes his head with a laugh. My eyes fall again on his wound and I open my mouth to say something but he cuts me right away. "I'll be fine, Emma. I promise."

"You're making tons of promises, aren't you ?"

He clamps his jaws with a sudden painful expression and my heart falls in my chest. What have I said ? I have absolutely no idea, but I can easily say he's hurt. He doesn't let me the time to apologize, though. He falsely smiles and, true to himself, he changes the subject. "Anyway. Do you need me to help you descending those stairs ?"

I bit my lip and let out an embarrassed laugh. "Um, yeah, that would be cool."

"OK, let's go then." He stands up and stumbles a bit on his feet, but I don't even have the time to stand too that he's already out. I follow him under the bright sun, wondering if he's lying to me about his wound.

_Of course he is. He doesn't want to worry you because he knows you can't do anything for him._

Yeah, that's the sad truth. I told him once that I wasn't my dad. Now I really wish I was. Because I could have helped him. But I can't. Most of all because I don't have a single thing to take care of his awful wound. But even if I had, I'm not sure I could do it. I've never been great to deal with blood, or pain.

"I help you down with my web, then when, when you come back, just call me and –"

"I don't have your number."

"Oh yeah, true, um, just wait a sec, I..." He stammers for a while and I can't help my laugh because I have no idea why he's that nervous about giving me his phone number. But I don't have the time to tease him about it that he slaps his forehead and says in a sorry voice : "God I'm stupid. My phone's in my jeans pocket. In my backpack." I laugh at him and he swears in his beard with a sulky expression.

But as I don't stop laughing, he suddenly draws me to him and my heart falls in my chest as I crush against his torso with a gasp. I try to ignore the fact that he's holding me tight, that his hands almost prevent my movement, that under _my_ hands placed above his chest, I can feel his breath and the beating of his heart. I try to ignore those deep brown eyes fixed on my face. I try to ignore that _compelling_ envy to meet them, but must of all the one which asks again and again and again what his lips taste like. Seems like the little voice is the source of this longing. But I'm not really sure. My mind is a real mess, right now.

"Ready ?"

He wants to kill me. That for sure. Why using such a soft tone right now, if he doesn't ? I simply nod, but before he has the time to move, I kiss him on the cheek and mutter, my gaze fixed on his : "Take care of that wound, would you ?"

He smiles gently and nods, his face so close to mine that I instantly feel dizzy. "If you're not back in twenty minutes or so, I call the police."

"Just call Spider-man, he'll be OK." I retort with a wink and Peter lets out an amused laugh that turns my stomach upside down. He then helps me to sit on the edge of the roof and shoot a web at me, checking it's secured before saying in his mischievous voice :

"Deal."

* * *

**Hello ! **

**Don't hate me for that wicked end, but actually I thought the "revelations" chapter would be shorter, but then I realize that it was waaaaay too long, so I had to cut it in two (maybe even three xD) **

**So, yeah, sorry about that, I hope you like that chapter anyway ! :)**

**Thanks again for all your reviews, you're fantastic ! (Hello Uncle Miles !)**

**;D**


	10. Chapter 10

__**Hey hey !**

**Long chapter for today, sorry about the delay I had tons of things to do ! I haven't reread it, so maybe there are some mistakes, sorry about that xD**

**Enjoy ! :)**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

Eighteen minutes later, I'm back at the bottom of the building with his backpack and skateboard, wondering stupidly how _in hell_ I'm supposed to let him know that I'm here. Call him would be stupid. I would look like a complete idiot – which is anyway probably the case already, considering the fact that I'm standing next to a fire escape and a dumpster in an empty dead-end street with my face turned to the sky just as if I was waiting for the messiah or something. But do I have any other options ? Doesn't seem so.

I bit my lip and try to think. But I might somehow have lost my brain somewhere, because the only thing that is crossing my mind since I've left the roof is '_Peter Parker is Spider-man. He. Is. Spider-man. Peter. Parker. Peter. Goddamn. Parker._' or something like that. Which is not helping me in any way. I have no idea what I'm feeling. Confusion, that's for sure. What else ? Happiness, anger, enthusiasm, concern ? Maybe a mix of all, and maybe not. I'm completely lost.

I shake my head, trying to focus on what's important right now. Which is, getting on that stupid roof. What can I do ? Let's try to call him, we'll see, maybe spider-guys have super-ears or something. "Peter ?"

_Stupid, he won't hear you with that silly weak voice of yours, you –_

But it turns out that spider-guys do have super-ears, because a web suddenly hits my chest and I gasp in surprise as it slowly pulls me up. I grab it as it speeds up and close my eyes, with the awful impression that I've left my stomach on the ground. I open them – with a sigh of relief, I must admit it – only when I feel light fingers brushing my wrists. Peter smiles to me and I try to smile back but I guess it looks more like a grimace than a smile and he laughs.

He helps me to safely stand on the roof and I give him his backpack with a grin. "Here, now you owe me ten years of your life in compensation."

Peter takes it with his mischievous smile. "Ten years, really ? It's a bit exaggerated, isn't it ?"

"Yeah, right." I nod, pretending to think. "Um, OK, what about you teach me skateboarding ?" I ask, as I put his board on the ground, next to us.

"Skateboarding ?" He seems surprised, and that makes me grin like an idiot – even if I don't know why. "OK, right, If you, if you want." He clears his throat and adds, just as if it wasn't already obvious : "I thought you were going to ask me something about, you know, Spider-man."

"Mister Spandex ? Oh, no, why would I since you already promise to tell me everything ?"

He lets out a little laugh then falsely mumbles, just as if he was reluctant about it – but maybe he _is _reluctant, who knows with that guy. "Solid point." I stick out my tongue at him and he sighs. We stare at each other for a moment, and I can't help thinking stupidly '_He is Spider-man. He truly is Spider-man._' as long as the silence lasts. Peter finally tilts his head to one side with an curious grin that makes my heart beat faster. "You look satisfied."

"I am satisfied." Oups. Oh really ? I'm truly catching myself, right now. Maybe I am the one who's schizophrenic, after all.

"Why ?"

I shrug, feeling suddenly really uncomfortable. "Dunno." He raises an eyebrow and I know that he's now really curious to know why. I'm curious, too. Why am I satisfied ? I don't have to think much to get the answer. Great. Now I'm feeling really, really self-conscious. Perfect. Say something, Stevens. Something, anything.

But as usual, he doesn't let me the time to and speaks just as I open my mouth to say something stupid. "You don't know ? Or you don't wanna tell _me_ ?" Oh great. He gets it, too. I'm really easy to read through. God, I'm so goddamn lucky to be me.

Mischievous smile, I hate you as much as I love you. "It's not, well, I, no, just, I guess I don't, I don't really... know what, I mean, I'm satisfied with, with, with..." Oh please, stop grinning at me like that, Parker. Focus, Stevens, focus. "With your bandage."

"With my what ?" His stunned expression almost makes me laugh. Almost.

"I'm satisfied with your, your bandage, you know." I repeat in a strange voice.

He frowns in surprise. "Oh."

Oh God, I've never felt that _clumsy _in my entire life before. "Um, yeah."

Peter smiles, but just as I did a few minutes ago, his smile looks more like a grimace. "Well, yeah I, I took care of it, just like, you know, just like you said."

"Good." I smile and try to joke, because _God_ all this is starting to get really, really awkward. "Maybe you won't die, then." Except for a nod, he doesn't react and my heart falls in my chest. What's happening ? What's wrong, suddenly ? Why is it hard to speak with him when it was so simple, twenty minutes ago ? Have I done something wrong ? Maybe he regrets that I know the truth, now. Yeah, probably. I shouldn't feel that bad about it. But god, I do. All this is my fault, I know it.

We stay quiet for a moment, and I have plenty of time to think about what kind of apology I want to make. Nothing comes into my mind, though. Maybe because there's still a part of me who's wondering if it's _really_ my fault. Then Peter smiles awkwardly and stretches the back of his neck. "Yeah, right, so I guess I should, you know, I should, um, change. Then I'll, yeah, I'll walk you home, deal ?"

"OK, great." I nod with a startling weak voice. Awkward silence again. Something is definitely wrong. "You can, you can change in there, you know." I offer, pointing to the shelter leading to the stairs.

"Yeah, right, good idea." Awkward, awkward, awkward. He swings his bag on his back with a strange, uneasy smile, and starts to walk towards the little shelter, shoulders arched, eyes on his feet.

_Say something !_

"Peter !" He immediately turns, in the middle of the roof, and I force a smile, feeling so self-conscious that my cheeks must be red as hell. But there's no way to move back, now. I know it. "I, I'm also glad you didn't leave."

He slowly smiles and my heart starts to pound happily in my chest as he does. Here is my Peter. "Why would have I left ?" I just shrug and his smile grows bigger. We stare at each other for a minute then he disappears into the shelter with a "I'll be right back !" and I laugh, because he looks so playful and somehow _happy_, right now. I've never seen him like that. And I must admit his playfulness is kind of infectious. That's maybe why I'm grinning like an idiot. Because I can't think of anything else to grin for.

I try to ignore the little voice who's cursing at me for being so cheesy and let my gaze wandering around until it falls on Peter's skateboard. I think about what I just asked him and my grin becomes somehow a huge smile. God, I'm so stupid. But I can't help the way I was born, right ? I've always dreamed to skateboard. Jack tried to teach me once, but we ended up screaming at each other and he never attempted again, after that. End of my skateboarding career. But I have the feeling that if it's Peter who teaches me, it would be alright. I'm sure of it, actually. Don't ask me why.

I don't even think for one second and put one feet on the skateboard. Which is really dumb, I'm absolutely aware of it, I promise. Who is stupid enough to do skateboarding on a roof ? Well, me. I have no idea what goes through my mind, right now.

And it doesn't matter since watchful Peter doesn't let me the time to put the second one on it. "Bad idea !" He grabs me by my back and I jump violently. He kicks away the skateboard with a quiet laugh and I feel his breath on my neck, a thing that moves me more than anything else. My brain seems to have stopped working. How convenient. "You're deadly stupid, Stevens."

"Yeah, right." I mutter, freezing as he doesn't seem to take his hands off of my shoulders. He laughs and I bit my lip, wondering if I've ever been moved like that by a boy before. No is the answer. I can't help thinking stupidly that Peter is the only one who can do that to me. Maybe it's true, maybe it's not. The only thing that's crossing my mind right now is that I really have to be careful about it. Something tells me that it's not really a good thing to feel that kind of thing about a spandex hero who's crisscrossing streets every nights to save people.

"At least you're smart enough to be aware of it." Peter points out in a soft, light voice.

"Right now, yeah." I admit, and _my_ voice sounds sheepish as hell. "I have absolutely no idea of what I was thinking."

"Lucky I've been there." I can hear his smile in his voice. I shiver and turn to face him and his mischievous grin. He's in his street clothes, but I wonder for a second if he keeps his suit under his clothes or not. I should write down all the questions I want to ask him, or I'm going to forget them. "So, what do you think of an ice-cream ?" Peter asks playfully and I can't help my surprised laugh at his sudden enthusiasm.

"An ice-cream ?"

"Yeah, I was thinking, we still have, well, _time_, before you have to get home, right ?" He ventures, scratching the back of his neck with a somehow shy look in his eyes. "We could, we could you know, spend some time together ?"

"Are you asking me on a date, Parker ?" I tease him with what seems to be a casual voice even though I'm absolutely burning from the inside, right now. '_Oh God, oh God, oh God. Peter Parker, guys, Peter. Parker._' Again, I think I've never felt that self-conscious in my entire life. But that's a good feeling, however. A mix of enthusiasm and concern and fear. A mix that makes my heart pounds really fast and happily in my chest. I love that, I must admit it.

He steps in the trap right away and I stare at him, trying to hold my amused grin as his cheeks turn into a lovely pink tone. I'm making Peter Parker blushing. I'm making _Spider-man_ blushing. What an awesome thing to be proud of. I should write that down in my CV or something. "No, no I'm not, I, well, it's..." He stammers for a while until I can't hold my smile anymore. "You're, what, wait, you're, you're making fun of me ?" He seems so dazed that I burst of laugh.

"No, I'm not, I won't dare !"

He mumbles something in his beard, stepping away from me and I giggle like an idiot. He looks at me daggers and I bit my lip, still smiling widely. "No way I buy you an ice-cream." He grumbles. "You don't deserve one, you're too mean with me."

"Oh, poor baby !" I laugh and he pouts. We stay quiet for a moment like that, then I catch his skateboard and say merrily : "Come on, sulking boy, let's have an ice-cream !"

"Sulking boy, uh ?" He repeats, insulted, snatching his skateboard out of my hands. I bit my lip to prevent my laugh and he growls again. "Bah, guess what ? I'm not helping you to descend those stairs."

I turn to him as I reach the edge of the roof and frown in both disbelief and amusement. He's kneeling in the middle of the roof and setting his skateboard on his bag. I fold my arms and say : "Oh, I see, and so _I_ am the mean one, uh ?" He laughs and then grabs me by my waist, but I don't have the time to comment on how fast he is because he then jumps of the building. Jumps. Of. The. Building. I don't know if I faint or something, but it feels just as if, really. My heart seems to stop, the scream I want so badly to let go stay in my throat, I cling so hard to his jacket that my fingers hurt. But I don't have the time to think, or to pray, or to do _anything_ because my feet are already on the ground. I stumble and Peter catches me with a soft laugh.

I stare at him for a minute in horror, then I start to hit him with my fists, even if I know it doesn't do anything to him. It's not a blonde little girl like me who's going to hurt Spider-man by hitting him with her fists, that's for sure. But anyway, I don't care, because it's a kind of relief, right now. "I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU ! Seriously you wanna kill me uh ? I'm, you're, God, Peter, you're driving me crazy !" I strike him one more time then repel him with a cry that an angry, squeaking mouse could have perfectly done.

Peter stares at me in astonishment while I fulminate like an idiot, then he takes a step in my direction, hands raised in front of him. "I didn't think you, well, um, Emma ? I'm, I'm sorry ?"

"Yes, be sorry, be sorry because you nearly kill me with your, your, your silly things !" I shouldn't be that angry since I'm all well and good, but I can't help it. Maybe because I thought for a second that I was going to die. That's not something you experience every day, I guess. Oh God, am I seriously crying, right now ?

It seems so, because Peter takes another step forward me with worried eyes. "You, are you, are you OK ?"

"No, no I'm not OK !" I cry, and I can clearly feel the tears running down my cheeks, now. Oh God, he must find me so weak ! I try to compose myself but there's no way to calm me down. I'm crying and gasping and shaking all over, in reaction to the absolute terror I just went through. My mind isn't the one who's in control anymore. Right now, it's my body. And I can't do anything to stop it.

I jump when Peter reaches me. I'm so stuck in horror that I didn't even see he got closer. He shyly wraps me in his arms and I let out a little sigh of relief when I realize that it's the only place where I want to be, right now. "I'm so sorry, Emma, I –"

"Don't, don't, don't be sorry." I stammer, trembling so hard that my words are almost inaudible. "You j–j–just scared me to death, that's all." Oh God, that nervous laugh was really ridiculous, what's wrong with you, Stevens ?

"Yeah, I know, I – I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have done that."

"Oh yes, you really shouldn't have, stupid boy." I can hear his heart beating in his chest so I focus hard on it, and it's that above all things that calms me down, I guess. When I start thinking stupid things like '_Wow, I feel so lucky right now, I wonder if he knows it, maybe he does, maybe he feels the same, maybe –_' I decide to step back with an embarrassed smile. He smiles back, an absolute genuine smile that threatens to break my heart. Has he any clue of how cute he is ? I really don't think so.

"Forgive me ?" I wish I could say no, but there's no way to say that. I'm lost, it's definitive.

"Only if you buy me that ice-cream you talked about." I falsely mumble and he laughs.

He grabs my hand and leads me back on the street, and I let myself be, either because I'm still dazed or because I can't think of anything else than his hand around mine. God, I'm so stupid. "Great, come on then."

We do buy some ice-creams, indeed, and I must admit that the rest of the afternoon goes on very well. We laugh. We talk. We eat. We argue about stupid things. Just as usual. And it's great. I spend an awesome afternoon, I must admit it, and I can't help myself being slightly disappointed when we finally head to my Aunt's house. Neither of us mention the all Spider-man-thing, even if I wish we had. But Peter seems somehow determined to talk about that later, and so I don't try to bring that up. Time for questions will come soon. He promised, and _I _am determined to remind him of it if he forgets.

We stop in front of the house and keep talking about stupid things for a while, then he lightly smiles and jokes : "So I think we both agree to say that this was _not_ a date, right ?"

My heart falls in my chest – for an unknown reason – but I act casual. "Hmpf, I guess so since you didn't kiss me."

"Yeah, right." Is it me or is he suddenly embarrassed ? Bah, just my imagination, I guess. Why would he be embarrassed ? No reason for that. No reason _at all_. Focus on something else, Stevens, he doesn't love you. He loves another girl. Not me. He said it. He loves Gwen. _Gwen Stacy_.

_The one who rejected him ? _

Exactly.

_The one whom you look a lot alike ? _

I retort nothing to the little voice, because if I do, I know I'm going to loose my mind. I know it. I don't want to think about things like that. Not right now. Not when I've spent such a great afternoon with Peter. Things like that are for later. When I'll be able to shout and cry and lament on my pillow. The only thing that matters right now is to end well this afternoon. Don't think about that, Stevens. You can't. Focus on something else. You have to. Be strong. Come on, be strong, don't think about that.

_The one he said you remind him of ?_

I suddenly feel like I'm going to cry but I force a smile and swallow my tears. Peter frowns and we stare at each other for a minute in silence, and I know he's wondering what's going on in my head. I know it, because right now _I_ am wondering what's going on in _his_ head. And something, in his eyes, in his expression, tells me that he's thinking about what he said earlier today. About him. About Gwen, about MJ, about me. About what he feels, about what he felt, about what I know and about what I might have guessed.

I know it because I'm thinking about all that, too.

We're very similar, Peter and I.

Maybe that's why he doesn't seem surprised at all when I say after a while, without even trying to prevent my words from escaping my mouth : "So. If you, if you want to... to talk about um, something, anything, just, know I'm here for you, OK ?"

He sighs, and sadness grows up in his eyes, grows so up that _my_ eyes start to sting. But just as I think he's going to say the saddest thing I've ever heard – like, '_I have nothing to talk about with you_' or something like that – his face relaxes and he mumbles : "Are you insinuating that I need to see a psychologist or something ?!"

I laugh, and from the look he gives me I know my relief is apparent. "Yeah, that's right, Parker. I think you have a real problem that needs to be solved."

"By you ? I'd rather stay like that forever !" I hit him and he laughs, and I shake my head with a smile while thinking about how all this is magic. A few seconds ago, we were on the edge to cry, and now we're laughing. Has a relationship ever been so simple, so sensitive, so _real_ ? Woups. I'm getting cheesy again. Let's talk about something else. But just as I take that decision, Peter suddenly takes me in a strong-but-gentle hug and my heart falls in my chest. Especially when he mutters in my hear a soft "Thank you".

"You're welcome." I say when he releases me with a light smile.

His fingers brush my cheek and I freeze, trying to look as casual as I can even if my heart is going crazy in my chest. Peter bits his lip with an amused face – and I have no idea why, I must admit it – then seriousness spreads on his face and he says : "Now you have to know... Well, um, you, now that you are aware of my, my, my –"

"Your little problem ?" I say, and he makes a face so ridiculous that I can't help my laugh.

"Yeah, right, my little problem, now you have to be, to be careful, you know ? Because, as I warned you tons of times, I'm not –"

"You didn't warn me tons of times !" I exclaim with a grunt and Peter raises his eyes to the sky with an exasperated face.

"Come on, Emma, I'm trying to be serious !" He sighs and I bit my lip to prevent my laugh. "_All_ this is serious, OK ? I didn't mean you to be involved but –"

"But now I am." I cut him.

"Yes, now you are, and you –"

"But maybe I _want_ to be involved, Peter."

He opens his mouth to retort something but I don't let him. I kiss him on the cheek and walk away, to my Aunt's house, and I can't help smiling because for the first time, it's actually me who go away, and him who stays and watches as I do. And that's a good feeling, even if I don't really understand why.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey everybody, here's chapter 11 !**

**I'm not really satisfied with this chapter but... Hope you'll enjoy it anyway ! :)**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

I'm only half-surprised when I hear a soft knock on my window.

Lucky I've been watching stupid pics on the Internet for an hour or so to clear my head. Otherwise, _he_ would have found me in a pretty miserable state. Because, I must admit it, as soon as he left, I've drowned in something that might be called a personal crisis. I'm not really one to weep on myself, but, well, today seems to be the day of many firsts.

First time I've spent my all day in a lab. First time I've met a hero. First time I've fallen of a building. First time I've eaten an ice-cream with a boy. Actually, first time I've _spent_ so much time with a boy. First time I've whined for a boy. Because of a boy. _On_ a boy.

_You're appalling._

God, yes I am. But if there is a moment to lament on myself, isn't it right now ? Because, well, the boy I like – yes, let's face it, I love that stupid spandex-guy – the boy I like clearly said he likes another girl, clearly said he appreciates me only because I remind him of her, clearly said he wishes that wasn't the case. So I think that those are good reasons to be a bit desperate, right ?

But my despair flies away as soon as I catch his mischievous brown eyes on the other side of the glass. God, I'm so, so stupid. I slowly walk to the window and face him without opening it. He's on his street clothes right now, and I wonder if he's finished his round of the night or if he hasn't begun it yet. Since it's, like, almost 1 am, there's no way to be sure.

He smiles to me and I read on his lips the words "Can I come in ?" I pretend to think for a moment then smile back and open the window. I shouldn't be _that_ happy to see him. I should be angry at him, goddamn it ! But I'm not. Because I'm stupidly kind. I step back and he slips easily into my room, letting his gaze wandering around before coming back to me. "Hey." Peter mutters, in a somehow shy tone that makes me blush.

"Hey." I mutter back, wondering suddenly – and stupidly – what a boy is _doing_ in my room right now. In the middle of the night. While I'm in a nightgown. A nightgown really ugly and childish, by the way. I love Minnie, that's not the question, but I really feel self-conscious right now. God, I'm stupid. "Everyone is sleeping." I add, without even knowing why.

Geez, I'm also wearing my one-century-old socks, with sheep and stars and moons. Unforgettable.

"Oh, right, yeah, er, maybe you, maybe you want me to, to come back, um, tomorrow ?"

My eyes widen at his sudden hesitant tone. "What ? No, no stay !"

Woups. I shouldn't have spoken that loud.

"OK, OK, don't get mad, I'm staying !" He retorts in a soft mocking voice that makes me shiver. I shake my head with a sigh, hoping I'm not too bright red right now. Little chance of it, though. Considering the fact that I sit on my bed and he joins me immediately. Oh God. I mentally add to the growing first-time's-today list '_being alone on a room with a boy_'. But no. It's not _a_ boy. It's Peter. Peter goddamn Parker. Aka Mister Spandex. Aka Spider-man. Aka the guy that drives me crazy in all the meanings. Men, my heart shouldn't be pounding that fast. "So, what's up ?"

Jesus Christ, I'm having a heart attack it's definitive. "Um, not, not so much."

He raises an eyebrow in surprise then slowly smiles, just as if he understood what was going on in my mind. Which he can't, right ? God, tell me he can't. He's just a boy. Boys don't understand things like that. It's well-known, right ? Right ? My prayers are useless, I know it as he starts to giggle like a stupid twelve-year-old girl. "Is there any problem ?" he asks playfully, staring at me with what seems to be the most annoying face he has.

"No, there isn't." I mumble. "Why ?"

"Dunno, it's just, well, you look upset."

"I'm not upset."

"OK, you're not upset."

"Not at all, not even a little."

"OK, OK, I got it !" He's still making fun of me, though, I see it in his eyes. Men, I wish I hadn't let him enter. Let's find something less perilous to talk about.

"Anyway." I say, as he doesn't seem to stop staring at me with his stupid mischievous smile. "Is this the right time to talk about all those... spider-things ?"

"Spider-things ?"

"You know what I mean." I retort, sighing.

"Yeah. Yeah right." He scratches the back of his neck and I draw back to lean against the wall. He raises his head and meets my gaze. For an unknown reason, he starts wriggling on the bed, just as if he felt really uncomfortable to talk about it. Maybe he does, but I must admit I don't care. Because he promised. Now's the time to honor this promise. So I wait for him to say something, and he finally does, with a nervous laugh that somehow makes me smile : "Um, yeah, yeah I guess it's the right time." He clears his throat, clearly avoiding my gaze. "So um, I'm sure you have... I'm sure you have tons of questions, right ?"

"Yeap."

Our eyes meet and he falsely mumbles – but I know for sure he's preventing his smile. "Go ahead then."

"OK." I take a deep breath and think for half a second. "How did all this happen ? Where did you get those... those abilities of yours ?" It's Peter's turn to take a deep breath, and then begins a long series of explanations. We talk for a long, long time, until I fall asleep and Peter covers me in a blanket before silently leaving. It must be four in the morning, by then. I wake early in the afternoon and, as I eat some breakfast-lunch, I turn on the TV and catch some break news about a robbery stopped by Spider-man, and I wonder how in hell he manages to be operational without sleeping. Maybe spider-guys have the ability to stay awake ten days in a row. I try to remember if he mentioned anything like that, yesterday, but it seems he didn't. Maybe he's just hyperactive or something. Yeah, that would make sense.

He told me everything. He told me about his parents, who left when he was very young. He told me about living with his aunt and uncle, told me about losing his uncle, told me about how he realized that with great powers always came great responsibilities. About how he deals with it everyday. About how he imagines his uncle, wherever he is, is proud of him. Up until then, everything seemed to come easily to him, but when I started to ask him about Gwen, the atmosphere became somehow more tense. However I managed to get him to talk. And so I learned what happened. How Gwen's father helped him against the Lizard. How he got hurt. How he asked Peter to promise to leave Gwen out of whatever would happen. How he died in front of Peter's helpless eyes.

How much Peter feels guilty about it. How much he wishes he could have prevented his death. How much he hates himself to stay away from Gwen, and how much he's convinced he has to.

Then he started to talk freely, moving quickly from one subject to another. He told me about his best friend, Harry, who has serious drugs problems. He told me he suspects that's why his father, aka the Green Goblin, came back from where he was. He expressed his concerns about it, saying he always feels reluctant about hurting his best friend's father, saying it's not great at all, saying he's sure everything is going to end badly. He thought for a while aloud, asking me what I would do if I was him. So I tried to help him. But as much as I'm concerned, I think I didn't help him at all, last night. I just listened to him. In a sense, I think it helped him. But maybe not the way he'd thought initially.

Maybe, after all, he needs a therapist. I really have no idea how he can deal with all those things without going crazy. I thought I'd been through tough things, I thought I had the right to feel somehow unfortunate, because of the death of my little sister, because of the departure of my father, because of the depression of my mother. But I was wrong. Things have been more than difficult for Peter. During his whole life. If there is one person who has the right to feel wretched, it's him. But he doesn't. He kept going. He _keeps_ going. He's the strongest person I've ever met in my entire life.

Maybe that's what makes him a hero. Not his abilities. Not the fact that he can walk on walls, not the fact that he's awesomely intelligent, not the fact that he has spider-senses. But the fact that he uses all these to help people who needs help. Who needs him.

I doubt everyone would act like that if they got bitten by a radioactive spider.

_I doubt even _you_ wouldn't act like that._

There's no way to be sure – since I've never been bitten by a radioactive spider –, but yeah, I think the little voice is right. Sadly. I could lie to myself but I don't really want to. I'm not as smart as Peter is, and I'm far to be as selfless as him. In a way, I know in my heart that I'm deeply selfish. I should change that. I _could_ change that. All I have to do is find the guts to do so.

This is basically what I'm thinking about while eating – devouring – my omelet in front of the TV. And so it takes me some time to realize that something's going on out there, at the bank. When I do realize it, I jump of my chair and turn up the sound, my stomach tightened with fear. The facade of the bank has been totally devastated by an explosion similar of yesterday's one. People are trapped under the rubble, flames and smoke prevent anyone to help them. Spider-man seems nowhere to be seen, the reporter explains he was inside the bank when it explodes.

No one seems to know what happened.

But I know better.

"Shit." I consider the idea of rushing there, but I'm somehow stuck to the TV and I stay in the middle of the living-room, waiting for the journalist to say something, anything. But the camera wanders around, focusing on every non-interesting-at-all things and annoyance grows inside me as minutes go by. At the exact same moment I think that that cameraman must be the stupidest cameraman ever, a wild laugh emerges from somewhere and I freeze, my heart pounding hard in my chest. I watch helplessly as people inside the TV flee in front of the Green Goblin who's now throwing happily those little bombs of his to the bank's facade.

It's pure chaos out there. And there's no trace of Spider-man, anywhere.

Of course, he waits for the right moment. The cameraman seems to have realized that it was way more interesting to film the Green Goblin and the bank's facade and so I see everything. When the green guy turns with an devilish laugh to face people on the street, I know Peter's going to appear. And I'm right. A flash of red and blue hits the villain and the two starts fighting in the middle of the sidewalk, destroying other storefronts as they do. Police sirens start screaming and the transmission of the camera is suddenly stopped. I clench my fists as a blond woman says there has been a problem but we'll be informed as soon as they get news, and so what about looking at the situation of the Middle East, now ?

There's only one thing I can do, _now_.

I don't even take the time to wash the dishes or anything else and leave the house, heading to where I know everything is setting. I'm half on my way when my phone buzzes. I don't even check who it is before answering. I _know_ who it is. It's easy to guess.

"Emma ?"

"Peter ! Where are you ?"

"Meet me at the ESU' library." His voice is calm, determined, very unusual in fact.

"OK, I'm on my way."

And that's all. I bit my lip as I quicken my pace toward the University. If he wants to meet at a library, that means he's not hurt. Which is relieving. But his voice... _that_ means he has bad news. Like what ? I have no idea.

_There's no need to torture yourself, you'll be fixed in a few minutes, you idiot !_

The ESU' library is a kind of huge library, and so I stop in front of it and start dialing his number – no, I don't know it by heart, I swear ! – but I then feel someone behind me – wow, am I turning into a spider-girl, too ? – and I turn, meeting his goddamn brown gaze. He's smiling lightly but something in his eyes tells me otherwise and I know my face shows clearly my concern, right now. "Hey." I say shyly, trying to force a smile.

"Hey."

"I was, I was calling you."

"No need to." He retorts lightly before pointing to the library. "Do you mind if we go in there ? I have to, to finish some homework, for tomorrow."

"No, no of course I don't mind, Peter I –" He doesn't let me the time to add anything and catches my hand, leading me into the library. I'm vaguely aware of the fact that he seeks a free table to sit at, but the only thing that's crossing my mind right now is '_Peter Parker is holding my hand. What if we meet Gwen ?_' or something like that, and I find myself unable to help him. He doesn't need me, anyway. After all, he's the one who studies here. He knows that place better than I do. But maybe he doesn't come here often. I must admit it surprises me that he does his homework. Where does he find the time to ? That guy is an absolute hero. He saves people and still does his homework. The perfect guy, really.

"Here." Peter says, letting go of my hand and inviting me to sit before sitting in front of me with a neutral face that startles me. Something's definitively wrong. "He knows."

"What ?"

He bits his lip and stares at me for a minute in silence. But when I open my mouth to ask again who knows what, he suddenly drops his neutral face, and concern and fear and anger surge in his brown eyes, just as if he couldn't hold them anymore. "Jeez..."

"Peter, Peter are you OK ?" I've never felt that useless in my entire life before. I've no idea what's going on, but I know it's bad. Really bad. Peter's not one to react like that for an unimportant thing, I know it. I grab his hand above the table and he rubs his eyes for a while before meeting my gaze again.

"He knows who I am." He mutters in a rough voice. "The Green Goblin."

I feel my heart falling into my chest. "Are you sure ?"

He simply nods and we stay quiet for a moment, staring at each other, and I know he doesn't tell everything he so badly wants to tell because he wants _me_ to understand what it all means. Therefor I know what he's going to say before he even opens his mouth. "My Aunt is in safety right now, she's not in New York, so she's OK."

"Good." I can't help but feel somehow blessed and happy because I know what's coming next. Which is really stupid, that's for sure.

"I've called Gwen to, well, to warn her, so she'll be OK, too." Peter continues, his eyes fixed in mine. "And so, we have to, we have to do something about, about you."

"I'm not –"

"No, listen please, Emma." He cuts me, squeezing his fingers so hard around mine that it hurts. "We've spent too much time together, I'm sure he –"

"I'm not leaving you." I retort in an angry tone that startles me as much as him. "Besides, where could I possibly go ? I know no one out of New York, except my mom in Scottsdale who's depressed and doesn't want to see my brother and I anymore, and my dad who's right now fighting in Afghanistan, so I guess New York is the safest place for me to be."

"But –"

"I told you, Peter, I want to be part of it." I say and he opens his mouth to retort something but I don't let him. "And that's not because I wanna be killed by a crazy green guy, nor because I wanna act like a hero, nor because I feel like I owe you something. That's because I care for you, Peter, and I want to be here with you, in case you need me. Maybe it sounds a bit... egocentric, but that's actually the way I feel. Even heroes need people to care of them, sometimes."

_What a wonderful demonstration of how self-centered you are ! Do you really thing a guy like him needs you ? No way ! You're useless !_

Peter stays quiet for a minute, and when I start thinking that the little voice is right and that all I have to do now is to buried myself somewhere and die like the stupid idiot I am, a light mischievous smile spreads on his face and he nods. "Everyone needs an annoying blond girl at their side, right ?"

"Right !" My relief is so obvious that Peter bursts of laugh and the librarian throws us a scary wrathful look. "Hush, stupid boy !" He sticks his tongue at me and I giggle like an idiot. The librarian shakes her head and goes away, mumbling something about ill-mannered teenagers and I make a face. "See, annoying blond girls like me are here to save you from angry old woman."

"Whoa, thank you so much, you're my hero !" Peter falsely rhapsodizes and I can't help my laugh, again. We squabble each other for a while, saying stupid things, as usual, then Peter suddenly takes back his seriousness and I bit my lip, wondering if he has changed his mind about me staying in NYC. But then he grabs my hand and squeezes it gently, his gaze fixed on mine. "Thank you, Emma."

"You're welcome, Spandex-boy." I say, without even trying to hold my smile – and my sigh of relief. "Now fun time's over, I thought you had some homework to do, uh ?"

"Sir, yes sir !" Peter mumbles and I giggle, thinking stupidly that I'm on again for a great afternoon.

Hopefully.


	12. Chapter 12

__**Geez guys, I'm so sorry for the delay ! I've been through tough moments these past few weeks, but now I'm in holiday, so everything is good, and I finely found the time to write !**

**So here's chapter 12 ! Don't hate me please, I'm already hating myself for what I've done...**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

"Hey, do you happen to know how stem cells' self-renewal works ?"

"Seriously Peter ? I don't care."

"Well, first, there's the obligatory asymmetric replication of course, and then –"

"Shut up Parker, I'm trying to work on my French right now !"

"French ?" I raise my head and cross his surprised, mischievous, goddamn awesome brown gaze. "Who cares about French ?"

"Well, I do." I exclaim, upset.

"Why are you studying French when you can study much more... interesting things ?"

"French is interesting." I retort, a bit annoyingly I must admit it. "Learn a new language is interesting."

"Stem cells are interesting, too."

"Well, do you seriously think there are more people interested in French than in stem cells ? Maybe we could take a poll or something, but I'm sure we –"

"I'm pretty sure there are more people interested in stem cells right here."

"Yeah, right, because we're in the Sciences department, but –"

"Anyway. You go on with your French, and I go on with my stem cells."

"How can I since _you _are talking to me every goddamn minutes that God makes ? Jesus !"

"I'm not the one who's talking !"

"Yes, you definitively are !"

"Oh really ? I didn't even notice it."

"Well, I do notice it." I mumble. "Seems just as if you _need_ to talk to me so that you can learn."

"Yeah, you must be right." He nods, while turning absentmindedly a page of his biology book. "Well, you're absolutely right in fact, I'd never worked as much as we did today. I should pick you up every time I have an exam or something."

"Why me ?" I falsely lament, and plunge my head in my hands with a fake sob. "What have I done to deserve this ?"

"Good question." He throws his pen at me with a huge, stupid smile. "Maybe because your stupidity alarms me so much that I feel I _have_ to teach you some elementary things."

I look at him daggers and throw back his pen at him, muttering in my beard. "I hate you, Parker."

"Nah, face it Stevens, you love me."

"Ah ! No way !" I exclaim curtly. But I can't help blushing and avoiding his gaze, and I'm sure he notices it because he says nothing to that, staying quiet for almost like, whoa, five minutes, with his stupid smile on his face, before opening his big mouth again.

"_Au revoir_, stem cells !" He exclaims playfully and I giggle like an idiot because his accent is the worst one I've ever heard before. And, believe me, my brother's one is absolutely catastrophic. "See ? I think I get what you were saying about French."

"Congrats ! And guess what ? I just discovered that I was deeply in love with stem cells."

"What ?" He laughs in surprise and, for an unknown reason, I blush.

"Forget about that, Parker."

"At your service, Stevens."

I shake my head and we stare at each other for a while, smiling like two idiots. Then I close my own book and yawn whilst putting it back in my bag. Peter makes an amused face and I pout, because I'm well aware of the fact that he's going to make fun of me, again, if I don't say anything. And so I take one deep breath before asking about the one thing that has haunted me for the all afternoon, actually. "So, what are we doing now ?"

Part of me wishes he doesn't get what I'm talking about, but sadly he does. I know it even before he opens his mouth. The seriousness that suddenly spreads on his face is enough. He thinks for a second then scratches the back of his neck uneasily. "Well, we have to, to take precautions."

"Yeah, right."

"Nobody must see us together in the street." He says, and he seems so determined that I don't even react to what he's saying – even if this is a sad thought, to me. "In fact, it would be better if we could stay away from one another for a while but... Well I guess I, I guess I can come at your place, if you, if you want me to..."

Somehow I suddenly feel like I'm burning from the inside, but I manage to act as casual as I can while responding. "Yeah, yeah sure, it would be great."

"Cool." He smiles timidly then thinks for another two seconds. "And you should, well, you should avoid calling me. And don't, um, don't try to come at my place. He knows where I live."

The way he says _he_ is so tensed, so fearful that my stomach squeezes in my belly. "Alright. So basically, I have to wait for you."

"Yeah, that's it." He bits his lip, and I know he's trying to make sure he hasn't forget anything. "But don't, don't worry I won't stay away for too long, I promise. I'll give you as much news as I... get."

"Thanks." I smile, and he smiles back. "Just... don't worry about me Peter, OK ? Focus on whatever happens, try to, to stop that guy, and if you need me, well, I'm here."

"OK, if I need an annoying blond girl, I'll call you."

"And please be careful Parker."

"I will."

"Great." I stare at him for a moment, and when I start wondering if it's the last time I'll ever see him, I stand up and say : "Now I have to go. My aunt needs me to buy her eggs and it's already late." Why on earth am I saying that ? Good question.

Peter stands up too and takes a step in my direction with a worry, guilty look. "Sorry I can't walk you home."

"Don't worry about that, I'm a big girl."

He takes me in a soft hug and I bury my head in his chest, my throat so tightened that it hurts. I have a really bad feeling about all this. But I choose not to mention it. He probably has this feeling too, anyway. "Don't miss your bus." Peter says after a moment, still holding me against him.

"Yeah right." I separate and take a step back, smiling playfully. "Spandex taxi won't be there for me today."

"Spandex taxi uh ?" He kisses me on the cheek then points out the exit. "Hurry up, Stevens, that's not all I have to do."

"Stupid boy." I mutter, hitting him in the belly before – falsely – furiously leaving. I hear his laugh behind me and I shake my head, but I must admit I feel great right now. Or I would. If only there wasn't that bad presentiment.

I had only take a few steps outside the library when I hear a voice behind me. I have no idea why but my heart goes crazily in my chest and fear invades my blood before I realize it's just my Uncle "fantastic" Miles, with his binoculars and his white blouse. "Hey uncle Miles !"

"Oh Emma, that's you !" He exclaims with his usual happy tone. "I thought you were Gwen, I'm looking for her, do you have any clue of where she could possibly be ?"

"Oh, no, not really, I –"

"Pity ! But hey, now that I'm thinking about it, I can tell you as well !"

"Tell me what ?" Why on earth am I that suspicious ? I don't even know. The only thing I'm sure of is that my body reacts exactly as if I was at stake. Which is a bit stupid, and makes absolutely no sense.

"We registered this morning some fantastic results in our process to clone a frog, this is unbelievable ! Fantastic results ! We're on to a good thing, that's for sure !"

"Whoa, congrat–"

"And so that's why I'm looking for Gwen !" He cuts me keenly. "She has to be present, when we'll put an end to those long years of hard labor !"

"Yeah, right, um–"

"I'm sorry, do you happen to know where Gwen is ?"

"What ? No, I don't, I just–"

"Alright ! I gotta go, nice to have seen you, Em !"

I watch him as he leaves, absolutely stunned. "_Who_ was that guy ?" I mutter to myself, shaking my head. A real air flow. I'm not even sure he noticed the fact that I tried to respond to him. What a curious character. Maybe it's not a good thing to work on a lab, after all. I should reconsider it. Maybe I should work as a nurse or something. I guess I'm getting good, with all the training I've been through these last days. Of maybe I should try to get bite by a radioactive spider. That would be a great job, too. A hard one. And an unpaid one. Again I wonder how in hell Peter manages to work for the university and for the Daily Bugles as a photographer and still finds the time to save people every now and then. That guy isn't human.

So this is basically what's in my mind as I walk outside of the ESU' campus. I don't really pay attention on what's going on around me. Maybe I should have. Therefor I would have been prepared. Prepared by the look of terror on people's face next to me. But I don't. All I know is that suddenly, I'm flying in the air and my back hurts a wall and here he is. Facing me. Tall and dreadful, his gloved hand tight around my throat. I gasp and try to escape him, but his fingers shrinks and pain stops me.

Here he is. He's found me. He knows.

I pray God or whoever is watching this right now to spare Peter. Spare him please. I don't want him to die. Not for me.

His green mask makes it impossible to read his expression, but it feels as if madness was spreading from all his body. This guy is crazy. I feel it in my heart, my blood, my bones. And I freeze as his voice resounds around us, cavernous, metallic, deep, insane.

"Gwen Stacy."

My heart falls in my chest. "I'm not Gwen Stacy."

He brings his face to mine, closer and closer, and I want so bad to hide from his mad gaze that I almost close mine. I bit my lip so hard that blood starts flowing of it. "Indeed ?"

"No." My voice is a mere breath now. Black points dance before my eyes. I'm suffocating.

When I start thinking I'm seriously going to die, he releases his grip. I fall on my knees, bringing my hands around my painful throat, gasping for air. When I raise my head, he's already gone. Someone kneels beside me. I meet a worry look, I hear a voice asking me if I'm OK. I get on my feet, stumbling, leaning against the wall as the world seems to sway all around me.

"Do you need me to call an ambulance ?"

I shake my head, hoping the guy who's talking to me would leave me alone. But his hand is tightened around my arm, just as if he thought I was going to faint at any time. I manage to escape his grip, shake my head again, mutter that I'm alright. Everything is fuzzy around me. There's only one thing I know for sure. I have to warn Peter. I have to warn Gwen.

"Are you sure ? You could have a trauma or–"

"I'm OK !" The guy gives me an angry look then leaves without a work, and I know I've hurt him. He only wanted to make sure I wasn't wounded. And all I did is sending him packing. Poor guy. But right now, I don't care. The only thing that's important is to warn Gwen.

The Green Goblin is looking for her. He knows she's somehow close to Peter. He wants to use her to hurt him. That makes sense. If I wasn't that frightened, I would comment on how all this is hackneyed. But I don't. My brain seems to have freeze since I got thrown against that wall.

I seek for my phone and call him. He responds immediately, and I hear his half-amused, half-angry tone on the other side of the phone, and I instantly feel better. "I thought I told you to avoid calling me, Stevens ?"

"Peter..." My voice is hoarse, it hurts to speak. But I have to.

"What's wrong ?" He's dropped the amused tone for his concerned, urgent one. I'm on the edge to break down, I feel it. Like a wave of fear and concern and horror invading my heart.

"You have to find Gwen."

"Gwen ?" And so I tell him what happens. As clearly and as quickly as I can. By the end of it, I'm crying like a baby in the middle of the crowded street. Peter stays quiet for a moment, and I can't even say why. I don't know if he's still in the library or not. He just stays silent. Is he shocked ? Is he already changing in his Spider-man's suit and thinking of where Gwen is ? Probably. When he speaks again, his voice is low, careful. "Are you hurt ?"

"No, I'm alright."

"Great. Go home, Emma. Stay there. I'll call as soon as everything is settled." Mechanical. His voice is mechanical. Just as if he was trying to hide his fear, his concern, his anger. Tears are running down my cheeks, I'm shaking all over. I'm not as good as he is to conceal my feelings.

"OK. Be careful, Peter, I –"

"I will." And he ends the call. I stay motionless for a minute then put my phone back in my pocket with slow, deliberate moves. I wipe my tears of my cheeks and take a deep breath. Some people are still looking at me. I feel their eyes on my neck. I have to move. Move to go where ?

_Find Gwen._

Half of me wants to do that. Half of me screams that NYC is a huge city and that one person isn't enough to find another one. Half of me is sure at two hundred percent that Peter won't find Gwen before the Goblin does. Half of me wants to look for that girl and save her. Half of me doesn't want to see another person killed by a lunatic. Half of me doesn't want another Lily.

But Peter said to go home. He said he'll settle everything. He said he'll call me. And I'm so afraid right now that I'm crying again. God, I'm so weak. Thankfully I'm not the hero here. I feel that bad premonition in my heart again. But I somehow know I can't do anything about it. I'm useless, right now. The only thing I can do is wait. Wait for Peter to settle everything. Wait for Peter to call me.

Someone puts their hand on my shoulder and I jump. MJ smiles gently to me and I close my eyes for a moment, maybe to compose myself, maybe to escape the reality and what I'll have to say in a few seconds. I have to warn MJ as well. She's one of the closest friend of Gwen. Maybe she knows where she is. Maybe I can still be useful to Peter.

"Hey." I mutter, with that goddamn hoarse voice of mine. "Do you know where Gwen is ?"

MJ bits her lip and shakes her head. "No, I haven't seen her since yesterday. Why, what happened ?"

"The..." I press one hand on my face, fighting against tears of despair. "That guy, the Green Goblin, he's looking for her, I –" Come on Stevens, you have to warn her. She's Gwen's best friend, just avoid the Spider-man's subject.

"Hey, easy, it's alright." She takes me in a hug and I stay still, dazed. Then I start weeping like an idiot – again. "There, there. You just got through a huge shock, it's OK." I don't even wonder how in hell she's aware of it. But maybe it makes sense to her. Since Gwen and I look a lot alike. "Come on, we'll get you some food, you'll feel better after that."

Oh yeah, right. Gwen said she majored in Psychology. _That_ makes sense to me. She leads me into a cafe and forces me to drink a whole cup of hot chocolate and to eat half of my muffin before allowing me to speak again. When I'm finally done, it's dark outside. Time flies, today. My phone is laid on the table, prominently, but desperately quiet. Just as MJ is. She's staring at me closely, her hands clasped in front of her, her chin resting on them. I let my gaze wandering around, until it reaches the TV screen. Nothing in here. Just some unimportant news about economic crisis and all that stuff.

"Are you OK ?"

I lay my eyes on MJ again and force a smile. "Yeah, thanks."

"Your neck is getting worst, isn't it ?"

"No, that's OK, it doesn't hurt anymore." That's a lie, of course. But I don't want her to worry about me. I'm not worse it. If there's someone she should worry for, it's Gwen, right now. "Any news from Gwen ?"

"No." We both bit our lip and I look away, staring at people wandering in the street. It's not that dark at this hour, usually. But it seems as if a storm was coming, today. Wind has brought tons of clouds. It's getting cold. People are walking fast, out there. "She'll be alright." MJ's voice is uncertain, feeble, and I know she's as concerned as I am. And so when she presses her fingers around mine, I do the same for her. And it feels reassuring. Because we're together. That's much more comforting than if we were alone, that's for sure. Waiting for news from Gwen, waiting for a call from Peter. To be sure everything is alright. Settled.

And so we wait together. Time flies. When a breaking news hits the TV, we straighten in and watch everything, clinging to one another. How it appears that there are two people standing at the top of one of the Brooklin Bridge's pillar. How the journalist identifies one of them as the Green Goblin, the instigator of the recent events in the Oscorp Tower and the bank robbery. How the helicopter draws near the scene, how the second person is depicted as a blond woman, how we're informed it might be Gwen Stacy, the daughter of the captain killed last year in the lizard events. My heart is pounding crazily in my chest, MJ's nails dig into my hand's skin.

And then Peter arrives. Or I'd say, Spider-man. He gets a small talk with the Goblin. And then the green guy knocks Gwen off the pillar. My heart falls in my chest at the same amount of speed Gwen falls of the bridge. When Peter's web catches her foot, I let out a sigh of relief.

Then I freeze. The camera focuses on the girl's motionless body as Spider-man pulls her up. And I know. Even before Peter kneels at her side and gently shakes her shoulders. He's still ignoring. He's still hoping. Hoping to see her smile of recognition, hoping to feel her arms around him, hoping to hear her voice telling him thank you. Telling him I love you. He doesn't understand. But I do.

Gwen doesn't make a move. She doesn't open her eyes. She won't open her eyes again. I know it. I feel it in my heart.

She won't, because she's dead.

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**I cried so much when writing that... Hope you don't hate me as much as I hate myself, and hope you liked that chapter, anyway xD**

**Reviews are lovely ! Please, don't let me in that dreadful, afflicted, depressed condition I'm in right now xD**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey everyone ! :D**

**So here's chapter 13 ! Hope you'll like it ! :)**

**Thanks for your lovely reviews ! ^^**

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_Meet Spider-man_

Everything is dark outside. Or inside. Curled up in my bed, my blanket folded over my head, my eyes are wide opened. They don't want to close. And I don't want them to.

I've been like this for ages. Or so it seems. I can't sleep, I don't want to. Because if I do fall asleep, I know what I'm going to see. And I'm not ready. Not yet. And so I'm waiting. My eyes are dried, I've cried too much since I came back home. Just like I did after Lily's death. Even if I try, I know I won't be able to shed one single tear.

That's not the first time I experiment that feeling.

It doesn't prevent me from thinking awful things, though. It feels as if I'm being destroyed from the inside. Destroyed by an idea.

I think they call it the survivor guilt. Again, that's not the first time I experiment something like that.

I don't even know when I first had this thought. The only thing I'm sure of is that it didn't come from the little voice. Not at all. In fact, she's more or less trying to cheer me up, right now. She's cursing me for thinking such a thing. Maybe she's right. She _is_ probably right. But I can't believe her. Not yet.

I feel guilty because I could have saved Gwen.

That little sentence is wandering now and then in my mind like a poisonous wasp. I could have saved her. I could have said I was her. I could have lied. To prevent her death. Even if that meant being killed. I should have done that. But I didn't. I didn't save her. As I didn't save Lily. I didn't because I'm selfish. Because I'm mean. Because I'm stupid.

Even Peter knows it. He's angry at me, that's for sure. That's why he doesn't call me.

_Of course not, you silly girl ! He's too busy crying on her, that's all ! You can be sure he's furious at _himself_ for what happens, not at you ! That's why he didn't call you. Because _he_ feels guilty about everything._

It's not his fault.

_Is it ?_

My heart falls in my chest. Is it Peter's fault ? No, of course not. But he surely is going to blame himself on it. Just like I do. This is a human reaction. This is the survivor guilt. It's as simple as that. My eyes start burning. Tears are back. What a relief, what a tear. They don't have the time to run through my cheeks, though.

Because suddenly, there's a knock on the window that makes me jump. I straighten in my bed and wink several times to chase away the tears. Here he is. I can't see his face, everything is so dark out there. I leave the warmth of my sheets and silently open the window. He steps in and grabs me by my shoulders, staring deeply, in a somehow crazy way, into my eyes.

"Are you OK ?" He mutters, in a careful, distant voice, just as if he was trying to stay strong, to hide his pain in front of me.

But his eyes are red, his chin is shaking, his whole body spreads his suffering, his despair, his guilt. I just nod, biting my lip, and even though I'm dying to ask him the same thing, I stay quiet. And I'm glad I do, because he suddenly takes me into a strong hug, burying his face in my chest, and starts sobbing. "Peter..."

That's the last word I say for a while. In fact, that's the last last word I say for the entire night. After that, I stay quiet. _We_ stay quiet.

He clings to me and I hold him desperately. And he cries. He cries, and I let my hand wandering through his hair, holding him tight, and tears are running down my own cheeks. During the whole time, I can't help but think _he_ is the one who needs me. And so I forget everything about that idea that's destroying me. I'm not the one who matters. Peter is. I put my "survivor guilt" aside for a moment. I put it aside to help Peter. To help him, not to forget, but to cry.

That's everything he needs to do, right now. I've been through things like that in the past. I know what people needs in those kind of moments. Nobody gives me what I needed when Lily died. They were all saying to me that it wasn't my fault, that I didn't have to blame myself for it, that they were truly sorry. But all I wanted was someone to cry with. Someone who hugs me tight, someone who remains quiet. Someone who knows what I'm feeling, what I'm thinking, someone who stays with me anyway.

I want to be that person, for Peter. I want to be his lifeline, just like he's mine.

And so when we suddenly stumble on my bed, when his lips crash into mine, when his tongue meets mine, I do nothing but kiss him back, even if I feel my heart breaking in my chest. Is he doing that because he loves me or because he wants to revive Gwen ? I suspect he himself doesn't even know. He kisses me deeply, desperately, keenly, and in a way, if feels absolutely fantastic. The little voice is turning crazy in my head. I've never heard her that happy in my entire life.

It doesn't prevent me from crying, though. I allow myself to let go of any hope I had left in my stupid little heart. I know Peter sees Gwen in me. I know I remind him of her. I know he imagines he's kissing her instead of me. Kissing her one last time. I see it in his eyes when he suddenly pulls apart. They are wide-opened, horrified in a way. We stare at each other for a moment, and I feel his heart beating against my chest. Fast and disordered. When a tear runs down his left cheek, my own heart squeezes hard, just as if it was trying to shrink until disappearing completely.

Peter then buries his face in my shoulder, shaking all over, and my eyes overflow again.

"I'm so sorry."

My throat is too tight for me to retort anything. He straightens in and starts drawing aside, but I won't let him go. He can't, he can't leave me now. He needs me, and I need him. This is at least a thing I'm sure of. I grab his hand and force him back into a hug, and he wavers for a second before wrapping his arms around me again, and it feels relieving, and it feels great. And it feels safe.

* * *

When I open my eyes, everything is so bright around me that I close them immediately. I stay still for a moment, my mind empty, then I realize something disturbing and somehow really unpleasant. Peter's gone. My eyes fly open and I let my gaze wandering around until I'm absolutely sure I'm alone. There's a note on the pillow next to me. _I'm sorry_. He must have left not so long ago, for the ink isn't even dry yet. The little voice screams in my head.

_Asshole !_

I bite my lip and try to ignore all the other insults she's yelling at him. There's no need to get angry, since nothing happens. Nothing but a kiss. Why is he sorry ? He's already apologized about it. Why renewing his apology ? It makes no sense, that's not something the usual Peter would do, right ? We've spent our night together, right, but nothing happened. _Nothing_. So there's no need to be sorry. But maybe he's sorry for something else. Sorry for leaving without even saying goodbye ? Perhaps. Yeah, that makes sense. That's definitively something Peter would do. He got a duty call. He didn't want to wake me up. And so he left, silently. That's all.

Nothing but a kiss.

I shiver and fall on my pillows, biting my lip, closing my eyes. I shouldn't be able to remember it like that. I shouldn't be able to remember the feeling of his lips on mine just as if they were actually on mine. But I do. The fact that it was my very first kiss must help, I guess. Soft and warm and urgent and boundless and thrilling. Breathtaking. Sad. Intense. Never-to-be-forgotten.

I spend a long time closed-eye in my bed looking for adjectives that would best describe the thing. I'm half aware of the fact that I've never been that cheesy in my entire life before. But I don't really care. Because I know that as soon as I'll stop thinking about it, all the awful things I thought about last night will be back. And I'm not quite ready for that.

When I finally leave the warmth of my sheets, it's already noon. I'm alone at home, of course. My aunt has left a full plate of ratatouille for lunch. I cry while warming it up. Thinking about Gwen. About her family. About MJ, about Peter, about everyone that knew the blonde girl. The one with whom I had joked about clones and all that stuff. The one that one day welcomed me as her friend, even though she didn't know me.

I was not her friend. If I had been, I would have saved her.

That's when my phone starts ringing. I jump and burn myself with my plate. I swear and pick up the stupid thing, wondering who is stupid enough to call me right _now_. It can't be Peter. I know it. And I'm right.

"Hello, sleepy !"

"Olive, hey." I say, trying to sound as playful as the girl sounds. I don't manage to, though. Obviously. Olive is my best friend, back in Scottsdale, and trust me, you've never seen anyone who's as optimist and crazy and silly as she is. "It's been a long time, how have you been ?"

"Well, I'm awesome as usual, but what about you ?" She retorts keenly, and I can almost see her frowning.

"Me ?" How can she possibly know that I'm not OK, right now ? She can't, right ? "What do you mean, I'm great, I'm good, I mean it's –"

"You liar ! I've made a dream tonight, and guess what, you were trying to commit suicide ! So don't lie to me, you silly girl, and tell me what's wrong !"

"What the hell are you talking about ?"

"Remember that time when you suddenly had that feeling something was wrong and it happened that I was crying in the bathroom ? Well, I'm having that feeling right _now_."

"Olive, we were eight, and if I had that feeling it was because I heard Jessica saying she had mocked you." I sigh, testing the temperature of the plate to avoid burning myself, again.

"So you're telling everything is OK for you ?" She says with her annoying, acute voice.

"Well, yeah."

"That hesitation of yours perfectly proves that it's not."

"Come on, since when do you sound like my mom, uh ?"

"It's about a boy !" She exclaims, ignoring my question, and I cringe, my heart falling in my chest.

"Jesus Christ, Olive !"

"Ah ! I'm right. Who is he ? What's his name ? How old is he ? Where does he live ? Has he done anything wrong to you that requires some face smashing, hm ? I can take care of that part, if you need me to –"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Olive ?"

"Oh." I can clearly hear the pain in her voice and my poor little heart breaks once again. "You don't want to tell me ?"

"No, it's not, it's just, well, I've been..." I stammer like an idiot, wondering where in hell I'm going.

"I'm sorry."

_Peter._

"What ? Is this his name ?" Optimist Olive is back. I have no idea why until it appears to me that maybe I spoke it aloud, for some weird, scary reasons.

"Um, yeah, that's his name." I nod, biting my lip. "Peter." The little word shouldn't sound that sad and worried and serious, but it does. Even someone who wouldn't know me as well as Olive does would understand how important this name is for me. How important this _boy_ is for me.

So there's nothing surprising in Olive's reaction. "Oh my God. Tell me everything."

"There's nothing to –" I stop, knowing exactly what face Olive's making right now. Half-a-smile shows up on my face and I take a deep breath. "Well." And so I tell her everything. I mean, not _everything_, I of course say nothing of the all spandex-thing, but I tell her about Gwen, about how Peter loves her, about how she died and about how he kissed me last night. And when I'm done, I can't help but let out a little sigh of relief, because I feel freer, now. Just as if the burden of pain had left my shoulders whilst I was talking. Had left them for a little while.

First, Olive says nothing. She stays quiet for a moment and I listen to her breath, and play absentmindedly with my cold-for-a-long-time ratatouille. My brain has finally turned off, or so it seems. I have absolutely nothing that comes into my mind right now. Which is a weird experience, since the little voice always has something to say, usually. Then Olive speaks, and I wake up. "Go talk to him."

"What ? No, no I don't –"

"I swear to God, Em, go and talk to him." She cuts me, almost begging me. "He's important for you, that I see. But from what you say, it is clear to me that you're important for him, too. You must talk to him about what happened."

"But he doesn't want to talk, otherwise he wouldn't have left this morning without even saying –"

"Oh come on Em, don't be stupid !"

"I'm not stupid, you're –"

"When it comes to boys, yes, you are the dumbest chick I've ever met !"

"What ?!" I almost strangle with the word but she doesn't let me the time to retort anything else.

"Emma Stevens now you listen to me. You have to talk to him, right now, because if you don't, you'll regret it for the rest of your pathetic little life, get it ?"

"My pathetic little life ?"

"Yes, your pathetic little life ! That guy is important for you, and he's not an asshole."

"How can you be so sure about that, uh ?"

"You wouldn't talk about him the way you do, otherwise." Solid point. I bite my lip as Olive stays quiet for a second, and I know she's smiling triumphantly right now. "He's not an asshole. That's why he left this morning, you know it. He left because you have tons of good reasons to hate him. He's giving you the choice, goddamn it ! Giving you the choice to be furious at him or, to love him for the rest of your –"

"Pathetic little life yeah, I know the song." I mumble. Still, her words echo in me the way bells do on Christmas Eve. Hopeful and merry and wonderful. But it's so easy to play the skeptical part. "How can you be sure about that ?" I try to sound skeptic, I really do. But even I can hear the hope spreading in my voice. God damn my naivety.

"I'm a seer." She retorts in a mysterious – and ridiculous – voice. "But seriously, Em ? Promise me you'll talk to him, OK ?"

I grumble for a moment, but as well as she does, I know that I'm done. She's convinced me. That wasn't really hard, I guess. I'm so easily swayed, that's bad. "OK, I'll do it, I promise."

"Great." I open my mouth to change the subject, but she's too fast for me. "So, you go now, silly girl, and I order you to tell me everything when you'll be done with him, get it ?"

"When I'll be what... Wait, you –"

"Go !" And she hangs up with a wild laugh, and I stay like an idiot with my phone stuck to my ear for a moment, wondering what on earth just happened. That girl, who currently is my best friend, is completely crazy, this is at least something I'm sure of.

* * *

I shouldn't be that nervous.

_Oh no, you really shouldn't._

But I am.

_But you are._

Well, that sounds legit. I take a deep breath and shyly knocks on the door. The corridor I'm looking at is dark, still there's a feeling of warmth that only the living, happy houses can have. I don't really know how to describe it. Just as if the fact that people stood there once, laughing and joking and talking and living was perceptible. This is a place where things happened. Happy things and sad things. But maybe that's just a matter of love. This is a place that has been loved. A place that _is_ loved. At one point, maybe yesterday, maybe ten years ago, maybe today, someone has entered here with a happy smile on their face because they were pleased to be back. That something like that that I'm feeling right now, staring at the dark corridor, through the window of the door.

_Stop being so scatterbrained and focus on what's happening, you moron !_

I jump and bite my lip, feeling a bit frightened for an unknown reason. It's not as if I had spent my all afternoon looking for Peter. No, not at all. It's not as if the goddamn boy is nowhere to be find. It's not as if his phone seems to be broken. It's not as if even his best friend, whom I met by chance on the ESU' campus, has no idea where he could be. It's not as if I'm absolutely worried to death. No, not at all.

And now here I am. The last place he could possibly be. Intelligent me somehow had memorized the address, right after the night he told me everything about his past. Don't ask me why, or I'll pretend I have no idea. The large number 36 was hard to miss. Even a blind person wouldn't have missed it. Um. Maybe I'm exaggerating. I'm always strange when I'm nervous. And when I'm nervous, and scared, and worried, that's even worse.

_Stop being stupid, someone's coming !_

A woman – Peter's aunt, I guess – opens the door with a gentle, polite smile, and I feel my heart accelerating. Moment of truth. "Excuse me, hi, Mrs, Mrs Parker ?" How comes it that my voice is _that_ low ? Jesus.

"Yes ? Hi, dear, how can I help you ?"

"I'm, I'm sorry to disturb you, I'm, I'm Emma Stevens, I was wondering, um... Is Peter here ?"

"Sure, come in." She smiles, and invites me to enter.

Whoa. She must have heard the awfully loud sigh of relief the little voice lets out in my head. There's no way to miss it. I follow the woman – Aunt May, I think it's her name – in the dark corridor, taking a deep breath as I enter in Peter's house. The exact place he forbade me to enter in.

* * *

**Okay, less Peter than usual in this one but... Well, he'll be back in the next chapter, I promise ! Hope you like Olive, I had fun writing that passage ! ;D**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey guys ! How have you been since last time ?**

**Okay, here's a long chapter for you ! But before you start reading, I want to wish you a very happy, wonderful, amazing, spectacular new year ! :D Hope 2013 will be awesome for all of you, my dear fellows followers ! :D**

**Now back to our story ! Things are cleared up between Peter and Emma in this chapter !**

**Hope you'll like it ! :)**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

"So you're one of Peter's friend ?"

"Um, yeah I... Yeah."

"Emma, you said your name is, right ?"

"Yes, Emma Stevens, I... Peter and I met at, um, the ESU."

"Strange thing he's never mentioned you before."

"Oh, well I, we're not, we only met a few weeks ago but I'm here because I was, well... I was worried about him."

She gives me a sad look and I'm suddenly sure she knows what I mean. Why I'm worried about him. "I understand." We stay quiet for a moment, staring at each other. The woman's eyes are sorrowful and shinning with tears. I think of what Peter told me about her. How she lost her husband. How she's always worrying for him. How she lives after the conviction that secrets have a cost, and how it's awful for Peter to lie to her everyday.

"Is he, is he OK ?" I ask, as she doesn't seem to make a move and stares at me in silence.

She shakes her head then nods with a sad smile. "Yes, he's upstairs. Sorry, sorry about that you just... You remind me of someone."

I bite my lip, knowing perfectly that she's thinking about Gwen, right now, and force a polite smile. "I know."

"Life." She mutters, and then points out the stairs. "First door to your left."

"Thanks ma'am."

"May. Or Aunt May, if you wish. But there's no _ma'am_, here."

"Thanks, Aunt May." I smile, and she smiles back, and for the first time it feels genuine on her face. For an obscure reason, I feel suddenly on the edge to cry, and so I hurry to the stairs before she sees the pain on my face. She doesn't need to feel sorry for me. She already has many things to be sorry for. I'm not worse it.

On my way, I notice an assortment of pictures on the wall. They all show Peter with his Aunt, and someone who I assume is his Uncle Ben. Some shows other people I don't know. Relatives, I guess. I focus on the one with Peter. One shows him smiling widely with his aunt and uncle in front of a birthday cake where a large seven is set. Another one shows him on a bicycle, ready to go, maybe a few years after the first picture has been taken, with his tongue coming out in between his lips. He looks so young and innocent and cheerful on these pictures. I can't help but smile while detailing them. As I climb up the stairs, so did the years, and I watch with a mix of sadness and curiosity Peter growing up. As he looses his child's cheeks and gets taller in each pictures, his smile diminishes until it becomes that weird, uneasy smirk most teenagers are familiar with. Still, the little mischievous light I've already noticed never leaves his brown gaze, from the beginning to the end. It's part of him, I guess, as well as his brown hair or his skinny silhouette.

The last picture has been taken not so long ago. It shows Peter, in his graduation gown, standing between his touched Aunt, and a blonde girl that I know too well. The two graduates are smiling widely, staring deeply in the other's gaze, just as if they were the only two people left on earth, and my throat immediately tightens, so hard that I almost choke. From what I know, Peter and Gwen didn't stay together – as a couple, I mean – for a long time, since Peter promised to her father to keep her out of it. But this picture has been taken after Captain Stacy's death, that's for sure. Maybe the two put aside everything long enough to take this picture. There's no anger in their posture, nor sadness, nor fear ; this is just two teenagers looking at each other, smiling at what the future holds. Hoping. Hoping that whatever happens, it will be better.

A single tear falls of my left eye and I quickly wipe it, taking a deep breath. Now hold on, Stevens. You can't show him your sadness. You can't break. Not yet. That's for when it's dark and when he can't see how desperate you are, how awful you feel. Stay strong. For him.

The first door to the left – as Aunt May said – is half-opened. I walk to it and take a cautious look in what seems to be Peter's room. Pictures – I'm pretty sure he took those ones – and posters on every walls, a create collection of boards, tons of books, a pile of dirty clothes on the carpet, an undone bed, a messy desk. I'm picking up details here and there, an expensive-looking camera, his glasses alongside a book about stem cells, a "Rear Window" poster on one of the walls, until I realize that the room is empty. Peter's not there. And the window is wide-opened.

Oh no.

He heard I was coming in. He didn't want to talk to me. So he left. I shouldn't have come. That was the most stupid thing I've ever done in my entire life.

Then a door cracks open, to my right, and he enters the room whilst wiping his face with a towel. He throws back the towel in what might be the bathroom, looking absentmindedly at his desk, then he raises his head and meets my gaze. He stares at me in pure surprise, mouth half-opened, and I stare back at him, my heart pounding really fast in my chest.

He looks great. Almost too great. But I'm not really objective, I guess. His eyes are a bit sad, yes, but clear and determined. There's nothing crazy in them, nothing desperate, nothing like last night. He's Peter again. What a relief. He's still awfully sad, I know it. How can't he be, anyway ? But he's no more lost or desperate. He's a fighter, I know it. I've known it since the first time I met him. He's back on his feet. There is no room for despair in Peter Parker's life. I can still see some water drops on the pale skin of his neck. His eyebrows are raised, his hair as messy as usual. He wears a bath towel wrapped around his waist. And that's all.

My eyes lay on his face, then on his body, then back on his face, and I blush, mortified. "Oh my – Peter ! I'm, I'm, I'm sorry I –"

"Emma ?" He says, frowning, and then takes a step in my direction, which, for an unknown reason, makes my cheeks even more red than they already are.

"Jeez I'm so sorry !" I shake my head, let out – not deliberately, _of course_ – a nervous laugh and step back, fleeing before his gaze. This is bad, this is really bad, I have to leave the house, _now_, or else I prefer avoid thinking what's going to happen to me if I'm not–

"Emma, wait !" I'm not even at the beginning of the staircase when he catches my arm and pulls me back softly. I turn and meet his brown eyes, and here he is, in his jeans and some random shirt, his gaze intensively fixed on me. I can't help but stare at him for a couple of seconds, my mouth half-opened, absolutely dazed.

Then I shake my head and another nervous laugh escapes from my lips. "Damn, you're fast."

"That's training." He retorts with a wink, and he's smiling, he's goddamn smiling, and I don't understand anything that's happening right now. He leads me back into his room, closes the door then folds his arms and stares at me with his mischievous, annoying smile that, usually, is the perfect translation of _'I'm going to make fun of you again, because God this is so tempting.'_ or something like that. "Why are you so ashamed ?" he asks with a hint of a laugh in his voice, inviting me to sit on his bed. "It's not as if it was the first you saw me shirtless, nah ?"

"Well, um." I clear my throat, avoiding his gaze as he sits on the chair at his desk. "It was not, I mean, I _didn't_ know that it was you, so it doesn't, well, count."

"But it _was_ me." He retorts, and I clearly see he's amused by my sudden shyness.

"Yeah, well, I didn't know that yet, so I –"

"Do you mean you would have looked closer if you had known it was me ?"

"What the – Hmpf !" I look away, trying to act as if I was really insulted by his insinuations – false, of course – but I think I'm not really convincing since I'm also blushing like hell. I only look back at him when I hear a chuckle, and I meet his sparkling eyes, and I don't know if they're full of tears or of laugh, and that's a weird thing because I don't think he either knows. But he's chuckling. Like an idiot, like a twelve-year-old girl, but he's _chuckling_, and that's not something I had expected when I decided to come at his place today. Not at all.

_He's laughing because of you._

Because of me ? Or thanks to me ? Is it a great thing to make him laugh right now when the girl he's loved for so long just died ? Or is it a bad thing ? I have no idea. Something tells me that it's not great, but for some reason, I can't help but smile, because Peter is laughing, and he's laughing thanks to me, and that means I can comfort him. And that's exactly what I've been wanting since yesterday. That's the promise I've made to myself. To help him through this awful period of his life. And I'm doing it great, aren't I ?

I stare in his awesome brown eyes for a moment, and I'm deeply happy to see that the mischievous light is back in them. Even if it's only for a brief moment, that's at least a progress. Or so it's how I see things, right now. So when he draws back his smile, I do the same, and we still stare at one another silently, and I wonder if he thinks about yesterday. About our kiss. Something tells me that he does. But hell, I have no idea what he thinks about it. And I'm certainly not brave enough to ask him. Who would, seriously ?

_Not you._

Not me.

"So, um." He scratches the back of his neck, and that's how I know he's feeling uncomfortable. I have the time to wonder like an idiot what it means – _oh my God, he's uncomfortable because he wants to tell me that he doesn't like me at all and that he regrets to have kissed me and that he doesn't want to see me again and etc._ – before he opens his mouth again. "For yesterday I, well, I wanted to say how much I'm sorry for –"

"Ah, come on, enough with your sorry !"

Considering the look he's giving me right now, I guess he's as surprised at what I just said as I am. Too late to back away, though. Well done, Stevens. "W-What ?"

I take a deep breath, biting my lip for a second before answering. "I think we can both agree in saying that I'm _not_ furious at you for what happened yesterday in my, um, bedroom. So enough apology, now."

Peter stares at me in disbelief for a moment, and I know he doesn't understand. Not yet. Jesus, will I seriously have to explain it to him ? What a nice way to make myself blush, yeah, perfect. "B-But –"

"Peter, please." I beg. "Trust me, I will never, _ever_ be mad at you for that, because I understand."

"You understand ?"

"I do, yes. Or at least I guess I do. What happened yesterday night... I know I can't really understand what it's for you, because if it's awful for me, how must it be for you ? But I can imagine. And I want to help you. So if _this_ is a way I can help you, then –"

"No." He cuts me, getting on his feet, looking angry, shocked, frightened. "No, no way Em. I'm not using you. Never, ever."

"That's not what I'm saying." I retort, determined as I stand in front of him. "I'm not telling you to use _that_ as a loophole or something like that, because it won't be great, it won't be healthy. It'd drive you mad, that's for sure. But I just want to make sure that you know that I'm here. Yesterday, you needed to... well, you needed to do it, I know. That I understand. And I decided to, well, to follow you. Because I was there, because you needed me, because I wanted to help you. And that's true for today, and for tomorrow, and for every day until you won't need me anymore. I'm here for you, Peter. I'll always be."

The last word is almost too low to be understandable, but I don't care. I'm crying. I didn't even have realized it until now. What a weird thing. Peter is staring at me so intensively that I can't even bear his gaze. I don't regret what I just said, though. That's a first. In fact, I'm relieved. Relieved by the fact that finally, things have been cleared up. That's a great thing, I guess. Even the little voice doesn't have anything to say about it. That's a first, too. Today is the day of many firsts.

"I guess now isn't the right moment to kiss you ?"

I raise my head and meet his eyes. I don't even try to hide the incomprehension that must be visible in mine. That would be a lack of time since I'm too dazed to even realize he's got closer while I wasn't looking. This is not what I had expected. Not at all. He was supposed to still be fondly in love with Gwen. He was supposed to say something like, '_great, we can be friends, but I don't want you the way you want me, because it's too soon, because I'm a good guy, because Gwen was my first love and nobody never ever forgets their first love_'.

He was definitely _not_ supposed to ask me for the permission to kiss me.

My distress must be awfully apparent, because the next thing I know is that he's holding me tight against his chest, burying his face in my hair, and I let myself go, because I have no idea what's going on. I don't understand. I don't understand anything. And it's even worse when he mutters the next few words in my ear, with a soft, broken, hoarse voice.

"I love you Emma."

I don't move, I don't do anything. Part because I'm too stunned anyway, part because what can I say to that ? I _can't_ respond with my own _'I love you Peter'_, because I know it would be bad. I would feel ashamed for the rest of my life. I can't do that. Not now. It feels too much like a betrayal. Gwen is dead. Now that she is, would I have to take the love of her life ? I can't, I just can't. Gwen loved Peter. That's something I'm absolutely sure of. Even that picture I just saw in the staircase proves it. She loved him. She died yesterday. She didn't have the opportunity to live a long life like she should have. She should have majored in Sciences, she should have become a great scientist, she should have married Peter, she should have had plenty of children, she should have been happy. She deserved it. She was a good person. A truly good person.

_But she's dead, now. She will never have those opportunities, so move on, there's no need to lament on how unfair this is ! She's dead. This is unfair, yes. But _you_, you are still alive. You can still have those things happen in _your_ life. _

The little voice is so sadly right that I start sobbing like an idiot. Peter's embrace tightens even more and it feels as if my heart was breaking. Truly breaking. Breaking in two different parts. One part for each point of view. And there's no need to try to make a decision over which one I want to follow. I know I absolutely can't, right now.

"Please, forgive me."

I push back just a little to meet his eyes, and what I see in it is so confusing that I don't even try to understand it. A mix of anger and helplessness and joy and timidity and pure sadness and disappointment and tons of other things I can't put a name on. This is far to be as simple as what Olive had planed. I have no idea what's going to happen next. He could perfectly kiss me, or leave me forever, or stab me just with the use of his gaze.

"I know what you must be thinking. This is so easy to guess, because I'm such a _dick _to tell you all those things right now. Especially right now. I hate myself for it, but I... I had to. I have to. Maybe you think I'm just trying to replace Gwen, like a perfect asshole who wants to take advantage of the situation. Maybe you think you remind me of her so much that my crazy brain just assumes you're Gwen and we need to get together. Maybe you think I'm just an opportunist, and yes, that could be true, but it's not. None of those things are true."

I can't look away. His eyes hypnotize me, but not in the way snakes do with their prey. In the way a wonderful, incredible, amazing, incomprehensible thing attracts every gaze.

"The truth is, I need you. You came with that a long time ago, I know it. You warned me. You told me that you wanted to be part of all this, and now that's what you are. You told me you wanted to help me, and now that's what you do. First I was angry at you for being so stubborn. You never ever listen to me, goddamn it ! But then, then, yesterday, I realized... I realized how much I need you. You remind me of Gwen, yes. You're stubborn as hell, yes. But you're different. You're holding me afloat, just by being there, at my side, and that's, that's what I need. That's what Spider-man needs."

Perhaps he's inventing things. That's what the little voice mutters in my head as he speaks. But I can't believe her. Peter's not a liar. His eyes always tell the truth.

"I've been feeling lonely for so long. My parents left when I was very young. I know that feeling since that moment. Solitude. It increased when my Uncle died, then it drew back when I was with Gwen, when I told her who I truly was, when we were happy together. But then her father died because of me, and it was back because of the promise. That loneliness, I thought I would feel it for my entire life. I learned to live with it. I even got used to it. Then I met you, and I thought 'well, this is different.' and it was different, it is different. I didn't feel lonely anymore, and first it scared me, because I didn't understand. But now I do."

_Ask him what he understands, Jesus !_

I wish I could obey to the little voice, but I can't. Just as if I had forgotten how to speak. This is not the first time I experience that kind of thing with Peter. I lose my words when I'm with him.

"Even when Gwen was still... there, it felt different when I was with you. Even when you didn't know who I truly was. I realized that yesterday. How much I need you since the beginning. And that's something new from me. Something I didn't quite understand last night, something I've been thinking of all day. And so that's why I want to apologize. Yesterday I kissed you. As you pointed out, I'm not even sure why I did it, whether it was to hold on to Gwen or because I realized how much I needed you. Maybe both. And I know I shouldn't have done that. I know I should have asked you for the permission. I know I should have waited to have a less messed up mind. But anyway I did. I did, and I'm truly sorry."

_Say something, goddamn it !_

"But I don't regret it. If there's one single thing in what happened yesterday that I don't regret, it's that." He takes a deep breath, and part of my brain orders me to do the same as I realize it's been a long time since I last breathed. "I need you, Em, and I love you. Maybe the kiss was a way to tell you that, I don't know. But anyway, today I felt like I... I wanted you to... well, I wanted to clear up those things."

"Why did you leave me this morning, then ?" I shouldn't blame him for that, but I can't help to ask. And anyway, isn't that what Olive told me to do ? To clear things up with him ? I free myself from his grip and take a step back, maybe to sort my ideas out or something. If I may say, it's really difficult to think straight when his goddamn awesome brown eyes are fixed on mine, when his arms hold me tight, when he's saying all those things to me in this intense, serious, lovely way.

He makes a face, and I know he's hurt. I try to explain it to him just with my gaze, but I don't think he gets it. He half turns, presses a hand onto his eyes before opening his mouth again, without looking at me. "I wanted to give you the choice. I knew you liked me, that was somehow obvious but... Well, I guess I didn't, I didn't want to force you into anything. So I left to let you the time to, well, to think about all this. To let you the time to make up your mind about all this."

"Well, that was stupid." I retort with half-a-smile, making my way back into his arms, and he raises an eyebrow in surprise. "I got angry at you for at least five seconds because of that."

"Five seconds uh ?" He chuckles, but I see in his eyes that he's waiting. Waiting for me to make the next move. And I have no idea which one is the best to do. I know what my heart wants. I know what my brain wants. And I also know there's no way to come to a compromise between those two things.

We stay quiet for a moment, staring at one another until I start to feel really, really uncomfortable. And I know Peter feels uncomfortable too. But he says nothing. Because he's what, a gentleman ? He gives me the choice. He doesn't want to force me. This guy is goddamn perfect. Still, I'm lost, and I don't have a clue of what to do. And the little voice is useless, right now. She's urging me to kiss him, _kiss him goddamn it you silly girl !_, and well, it's not really helpful if you know what I mean. My head is a real mess, right now.

So it's a relief for both of us, I guess, when he scratches the back of his neck, his right arm still wrapping around my waist, and says tentatively : "But it, it doesn't have to be like, like that you know, I mean... I understand what you're feeling, of course I do, I'm not, well, I guess we can just, well. We could, we could stay friends, and then when, when we, when we feel... ready, we'll, well." He clears his throat, maybe looking for the right word, but I don't let him continue. I bury my head in his chest, join my hands in his back, and listen to his heartbeat for a moment before nodding quietly.

"Deal."

* * *

**I must admit I'm really happy with the idea of the photos in the staircase ! I'm not sure there are actually pictures like that in the house in Marc Webb's movie (except on the fridge and in Peter's room, but well xD) but I liked the idea and felt like it was something Aunt May would absolutely do ! Anyway I hope you liked that chapter ! :D Important chapter, if I may say. Hope the explanations Peter gives doesn't sound... out-of-character ? Creepy ? Weird as hell ? Impossible ? xD Please, tell me ! :)**

**Enjoyyyyy 2013 guys !**

**Reviews are lovely, of course ! ;)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hola chicas !**

**Okay, sorry for the delay, it's finals time here in France, so I'm actually in something that might be called a personal crisis ! So I won't update until next week, for obvious reasons that I hate. (And also, I started watching Doctor Who, and this is so f*#cking awesome, you have no idea ! BTW, the Doctor always says "fantastic" and I was like "whoaaaaaaa Uncle Miles is the Doctor !" Ahem.)**

**Here's an happy chapter ! It wasn't planed to be like that, but well, I wrote it while listening to the new One Direction's song, "Kiss You", and, well. I don't really like them, usually, but yesterday I watch their video and first I was like "AHAHAH they are so f*#cking ridiculous, seriously! This is so stupid!" and then I was like "Yeahyeahiyeahyeah yeahyeahiyeahyeah and let me kiss you!" and then I was like "Well, f*#ck, those guys are hilarious, I love that !" LOL**

**So yeah, anyway, here's chapter 15 ! :) Hope you'll enjoy it, reviews are lovely ! :D**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

"I'm so selfish."

"No, you're not."

"Well, yes I am, I mean, I should be thinking about Gwen and all but –"

"Peter, shut up, you're not selfish."

"You really think so, Em ?"

He's not saying that just because he wants to contradict me. I see it in his eyes, he's serious. Serious as hell. He's questioned himself about that before asking me. He wants to have the confirmation that he _is_ selfish. I'm not the one who's going to give him that confirmation. "Yes, Peter, I do think you're not selfish."

"Why ? I mean, just like I said, I should be thinking about –"

"Peter, come on, don't be stupid." I cut him, forcing him to look straight into my eyes. "You're not selfish. If there's someone here who's not selfish, it's you. Think for a second. Who's crisscrossing the city every night to help people who needs him ? Who's asking for nothing in return ?"

"It's my responsibility." Peter retorts, frowning.

"Yeah, right, but nobody asks you to do it. If you hadn't decided to use your power to do good, it wouldn't have changed anything. You would still be a normal guy, with great capacities he wants to keep secret. NYC would still be a huge city full of crazy guys stealing and killing and raping. But thanks to you, thanks to your decision, it's not anymore. So I guess that makes you someone not selfish at all, if you know what I mean."

"True, but I wasn't talking about that, I was talking about –"

"Gwen, yes, I know." I meet his eyes, and they are full of wait. I know he needs to be reassured. I take a deep breath, willing to do exactly what he needs. "Maybe you shouldn't... think about what you should be doing or not. I guess not thinking about her is a way to protect yourself, you see ?"

"Do _you_ think about her ?"

"Well, yeah, I do. And I'm sure you do, too. You just don't realize you do. You're thinking about her right now."

"Yeah, true, but I don't think about her _enough_. She deserves –"

"Don't say that, Peter. Gwen deserved an awful lot of good things, but I'm sure she wouldn't have wanted you to mope on her death. She was brave and she was a fighter, she would have wanted you to keep going the way she kept going when her dad died."

_Are you serious ? Tell me you just didn't say that ! This is the exact same sentence you hated to hear when Lily –_

"Yeah, you're right."

"What ?"

"Don't force me to repeat that, it has already burnt my throat come on !" He falsely mumbles, turning absentmindedly a page of his biology essay he's been working on for an hour or so.

I wriggle on his bed like an idiot, well aware of the fact that he's misinterpreted my question. "No, no that's not, I just... Well, that was something tons of people said to me after my sister's death and, well, I hated that so..."

"Oh." He stays quiet for a minute, seemingly lost in his essay, and I pretend to admire the pictures on his wall, waiting for him to continue. "Yeah, right, I should get mad at you for it, shouldn't I ? Like, _how can you even know what she would have wanted uh ? You didn't know her !_"

I bite my lip, because that's exactly the thing I told my Aunt a few times ago. I can't help but feel awful, because even if Peter's poking fun at me right now, it hurts to hear that anyway. So how must have it been for my Aunt ? I just don't want to imagine. "Um, well I –"

"Just kidding."

I frown and raise my head to meet his gaze. He's staring at me with half a smile on his goddamn cute face, still seated cross-legged on the carpet. I make a face and he smirks. What an idiot. What a cute idiot. "Um, I see."

"Hey, don't take it badly, I was just pretending to be angry, Em !"

"What ? Yeah, yeah I know yeah." I nod, in a somehow weak voice that startles me a bit. What's wrong with me, suddenly ? I feel on the edge to cry, and I don't even know why.

"Hey." I raise my head and here he is, seated next to me, his concerned look fixed on mine. "You OK ?" I wonder for a second if my heart will ever stop thumping that hard in my chest every time he draws near. Something tells me that it won't. It's physical, I think, as I get more and more immersed in his brown gaze. There's nothing willing in it, that's for sure, it's just... my body reacting.

"Yeah, yes don't worry, I'm just... tired." I pretend with a fake smile, and as he frowns, I know he doesn't believe me at all. He doesn't say anything, though. He just draws nearer and takes me in a soft hug and I let myself go, biting my lips to avoid bursting into tears.

"Relax, Miss Stevens."

"Sure."

We stay like that for a moment and I listen quietly to his heartbeat and try to empty my mind completely. I wish I could unlearn how to think, but it seems somehow impossible. Obviously. I manage to focus on Peter's arms wrapping around me, though, and forget Gwen for a minute. Or so that's what I'm trying to convince myself of. I wonder what she would have thought about all this. About what happened this afternoon, what I said, what Peter said. I didn't know her well enough to guess that. Maybe that's for the best. I wouldn't even let Peter touch me if I knew her better, I guess.

_Would you ?_

I sniff and scratch my nose, and that's when I realize one tear has escaped my vigilance and rolled down my left cheek. I hastily wipe it with a nervous laugh and Peter catches my hand in his, squeezing it gently, fixing his gaze on mine. I don't even achieve the fact that he's slowly leaning towards me, and most of all the fact that I am, too.

That's when there's a sudden soft knock on the door. Only then I realize how close our lips are and I promptly back away, my heart drumming in my chest. I meet Peter's gaze for half-a-second then he's back on the carpet, scratching the back of his neck uneasily, clearly avoiding my eyes. "Yeap ?"

Aunt May's voice arise from behind the door, gentle and mindful. "Peter, is your friend staying for dinner ?"

"Oh, um..." Peter turns to me, his eyebrows raised interrogatively.

I straighten in on his bed and the door flies open, revealing the polite face of Aunt May. "Yeah, well, I mean I should, I should probably go, I don't wanna bother you or anything I –"

"Oh no, you're not bothering us, dear !" the woman assures with a smile. "It's just, well, it's getting late, and I don't want your mother to be worried or anything."

"Emma's living with her aunt and uncle." explains Peter, before I even get a chance to respond.

"Is she ? Well, this makes you something in common." She smiles and I smile back, even though I can't help but glance in Peter's direction, wondering if he's thinking the same thing. Which is, _'not with his uncle anymore'_. I shouldn't be thinking that kind of thing, seriously.

"Yeah, right, um, no I, I guess I should go, my brother's coming for dinner tonight so um..." I pretend to take a look at my watch then raise my head and smile to Peter's aunt. "I should go."

"I'll walk you back, then."

"Oh, that's OK don't worry, I know where –"

"I was not asking for the permission." Peter cuts me whilst getting up.

I frown in disbelief, then let out an amused laugh. "OK then. Let's go, Parker." I catch my vest and put it on, smiling at Aunt May's intention. "Thanks a lot Mrs Parker, it was really nice to meet you."

"And you as well." she retorts kindly. "Hope to see you back soon, don't hesitate to come visit us."

"Sure." I turn to Peter and he smiles in an awkward way that makes me frown. "You ready ?"

"Yeah, sure, let's go." He nods, leading me into the corridor. I smile to Aunt May and follow him in the staircase. I glance in the pictures direction, wondering if Peter still sees them. I bet my hat he doesn't. "I'll be right back Aunt May, don't worry."

"You'd better be, I'm making spaghetti and meat balls tonight."

"Cool." Peter says, opening the front door. I meet his Aunt's gaze and smile again.

"Bye Mrs Parker, thanks a lot for –"

"Stop thanking me, I haven't done anything !" She retorts with a fake grumpy voice that makes me laugh. "Have a safe trip home, Emma." She adds, just as I step outside. I meet her eyes once again, just enough time to see the concern in them before she smiles genuinely.

_She worries about you because you look a lot like Gwen._

"Don't worry, I guess I'm safe with your nephew." I assure merrily, even if my heart is tightened in my chest. She doesn't know me, still she worries about me. No wonder where Peter took that empathy of him. I feel _his_ eyes laid on me, and that's not a surprise when I hear his next sentence.

"Yeah, right, you're safe with me, now off we go, Em."

"Sure ! Bye, Aunt May !"

"Bye Emma !"

She closes the door and I jump the three steps and smile to Peter. He makes a face in return and sticks his hands in his pockets. I raise an eyebrow but he just shrugs, clearly avoiding my gaze. I don't ask him what's wrong. I don't even know why. Or yes, maybe I do. I don't ask him because I kind of suspect what's wrong. It's not _that_ difficult to guess. I'm not stupid enough to miss the fact that he's both embarrassed and disappointed, right now.

We start walking in the soft sunset light and he stays quiet for at least five minutes before opening his mouth again. "Sorry about that."

Is he talking about Aunt May or about what almost happened right before she came in his room ? Good question. "That's alright, don't worry." I assure lightly with a smile. "Your Aunt's great."

"Oh. Yeah, yeah she is."

Oops. Great, he wasn't talking about that, ultimately. Well done, Stevens. We stay quiet for another five minutes, and this is awkward, awkward as hell. I look for something, anything that would relax him a little bit. When I finally find something, it turns out to have the exact opposite effect. Obviously. "You don't have to walk me the entire way, you know. I know where I live, now."

I clearly see on his face that I just goofed even before he opens his mouth. "Oh. I see. OK then, um..." He stops walking and I do the same, trying to ignore the little voice who's cursing me repetitively right now.

"Oh no, that wasn't, I mean, it's just, well, ahem, _geez _!" I slap my forehead, feeling awfully self-conscious, and he lets out a little laugh of disbelief. "It's just, um, I don't want you to, to miss um, the spaghetti, you know."

"Is that only a matter of spaghetti ?" He falsely grows angry and I bite my lip to prevent my laugh.

"No, no of course not !" I exclaim keenly, playing the part of the so-sorry-damsel-in-distress. "I mean, there's also, the meat balls, you know, you don't wanna miss them too, do you ?"

"Yeah right, meat balls are way more important than _you_." He grumbles, then suddenly drops the game and stares into my eyes with an unusual serious expression. "What about a trip in the air, Miss Stevens ?"

I raise my eyebrows in disbelief, startled by the abrupt change of subject. "You can do that ?"

"Of course I can do that !" He exclaims with an offended tone before adding quietly. "I didn't tell you yet but, yeah, I'm Superman."

"Whoa. This is seriously amazing." I laugh and he winks playfully, and I can't help but be happy, right now. What a naive thought. "A trip in the air, you said ?"

"Absolutely. It's way faster than the bus, and most of all, it's free."

"Oh really ? I don't believe you, this is impossible !" I can't help my laugh because he looks so enthusiast and joyful and light right now. It's almost unbelievable.

"No, I swear, I swear, completely free ! Unless you wanna pay."

"It's free unless I wanna pay ? What kind of sorcery is this ?"

"There's a special rate for annoying blonde girls like you." He nods and I let out a mocking laugh.

"I'm sure you invented that special rate ! Is the real Superman even aware of that, uh ?"

"I'm the real Superman !"

"You liar ! If you were a superhero you would be..."

"Iron-Man ? Super-smart and rich and powerful and –"

"Um, no, not really." I stick out my tongue at him and he grumbles, falsely vexed. "Well, on second thoughts, I guess if you were a superhero, you'd end up being Spider-man." I say after a moment with an amused smile.

"How convenient." It's his turn to stick out his tongue and I laugh because it's really unusual to see him that childish. "So, are you up for it ?"

"Well, I guess I don't have a choice." I tease him and he grabs me by my waist with a triumphant smile that turns my heart upside down.

"Yeah, right, I wasn't asking for your permission." That's when I kiss him. I. Kiss. Him. Not in a deep, desperate, urgent way just like the first time we kissed. Just a soft, quick brush of my lips on his. But still a kiss. Still a kiss, right on his lips. I don't even know why I did it. I'm as lost as he seems to be. We stare at each other for a moment, his arms still wrapped around my waist, and I have no idea what to do. But just as I open my mouth to apology, a light smile spreads on his lips and he says : "Let's go, now."

* * *

"You mean you've met them for _real _?"

"Yeah !"

"Nah, I don't believe you."

"Come on, I swear, it was like, last year ? After the Lizard, you know."

"Whoa." I shake my head and Peter lets out an amused laugh. "Awesome. I mean, what was it like ? They're like, living legends ! Even in Scottsdale we know them."

"Um, it was a bit tense at the beginning but um..."

"What d'you mean ?"

"Well, considering the fact that I was breaking in their building, I guess they were... right to get mad at me."

"What what what ? Wait a sec, you're telling me that you fought against the Fantastic Four ?"

"Um, yeah ?"

I can't help but burst of laugh at his ashamed face. "And so ? Who won ?"

"Ahem." I giggle like an idiot and he looks at me daggers before mumbling. "Well, obviously they did. But they were four ! I was all alone."

"Oh, poor baby." I chuckle again. "So what was it like ? Is Johnny Storm as handsome as he's said to be ?" I shouldn't tease him about that but God I can't help it. Like he said once, it's so much fun to watch him getting worked up anytime I do tease him.

Peter mumbles something in his beard about stupid annoying blonde girls and I playfully nudge him. The sun's completely gone now, we're almost at my Aunt and Uncle's house. We haven't walked for the entire way, of course. Spider-man helped a bit, according to plan, but Peter was somehow reluctant to land right in front of the house. So that's why we're walking. Talking about the FF. Spending some great time together.

He's said nothing about the kiss yet, and something tells me that he won't at all. What a relief. What a tear. For at least the hundredth time since I met that guy, yes, I don't know what I want, and it sucks. I wish everything was clear in my head. I wish Gwen wasn't dead, I wish nothing was complicated.

But it'll never be that easy, of course.

"Nah, Johnny Storm is just an asshole."

"Seriously ? Chicks dig him."

"What ?!" His chocked tone makes me laugh and he frowns.

"Sorry about that." I say after a moment, still sniggering. "It's just something my brother usually says about that guy."

"Geez. Is your brother's name's Flash or something ?" Peter says, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Um, no ? His name's Jack. Actually, he's great. We're twins."

"Are you saying that he's great because you're twins or because he is actually great ?" Peter teases me and I stick my tongue at him.

"Um, just because we're twins." I say on reflexion and he laughs.

"Obviously. Does he look like you ?"

"No, not at all. He's tall, with brown hair and brown eyes. The exact opposite. Actually, he looks more like my little sister, Lily." Peter nods with a smile, but he stares at me expectantly and I know he's giving me the choice whether or not I'll mention the death of my sister. I think for a second then decide I'm not ready. Not yet. He'll understand. "I could introduce you to him, if you want. He's fine."

"Sure. If you like."

I smile and he smiles back. We stare at each other for a moment, then I look away, without even knowing why. "So. Here we are."

"Yeah." I glance in his direction as he makes a face and, amused, I nudge him again. He takes this opportunity to catch my arm and hugs me tightly, and I do the same with a light laugh. He buries his head in my hair and we stay like that for a moment, on the sidewalk, in front of my Aunt's house. I don't care though. I must admit I'm quite happy right now. "Thank you." he mutters in my ear and I shiver, for an unknown reason.

I push back a little and smile genuinely. "You're welcome." I hesitate for a second then kiss him half-way between his cheek and his lips. I immediately feel bad for it but Peter just smiles and bumps his nose against mine playfully. I falsely mumble – even if my heart is turning crazy in my chest, right now – and take a step back, pretending to look at him daggers. "Now off you go, spandex-boy. Or else the spaghetti won't wait for you."

"Sure !" He laughs, before dropping his smile for his serious, concern expression. "Take care, would you ?"

"I will." I promise with a wink. "Take care, too, Mister Spandex."

"Deal." He nods, and I can't help but smile.

"See you around then ?"

"Yeah, I'll call you tomorrow."

"You'd better not forget !"

"Come on, I'm not as stupid as I look ! I won't forget, I promise."

"Great. See you then, Peter. Enjoy your spaghetti !"

"Count on me !" He says with a laugh. We stare at one another for a minute before I shake my head with embarrassment. He seems to be as reluctant to leave as I am to let him go. What a joyful pair of idiots we make. Peter laughs again, squeezes his fingers around mine and winks playfully. "Now, off I go, Stevens ! I know you can't do without me but hey, I have things to do !"

"Bah, you stupid spandex boy, leave now if you don't want me to stab you to death with the use of my only gaze !"

To that he responds with a kiss – somewhere on my face, I don't even know where – then he flies away with a huge, playful laugh that makes me smile like an idiot for the rest of the night.


	16. Chapter 16

__**Hellohoooo everyone !**

**Hope everything's OK for you, sorry for the delay I didn't get much chance to write these past few days with the finals and all, but well, as I'm the laziest girl in the world and hate revisions, I still managed to find time to write ! So here's chapter 16, hope you'll like it :)**

**Enjoy !**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

I wish I could say I spend a nice evening, that same day, but alas, it's not true at all. As soon as I open the door after I left Peter, bad news run over me like a massive, merciless truck. I don't even have the time to step inside the house that a hand catches my arm and my Aunt hugs me tight, in the same time sobbing, lamenting, yelling.

"Jesus Christ Emma !" I make no move, stunned, and meet my Uncle's gaze over her shoulders. "We were so worried, where were you, why didn't you answer the phone, what on earth were you thinking, we thought you were dead, why did you do that, what –"

"What the hell are you talking about ?" I ask weakly as she still hugs me as if she thought I was going to disappear or something. "What's wrong, what happened ? Uncle Ray ?" The latter shakes his head, running a hand through his face with a strange sigh that worries me like hell.

"Let her go, Julia." He says and I freeze as she does, in the anticipation of the bad news that I feel are coming.

"What's wrong ?" I ask again, more firmly this time.

"So much." My Aunt mutters whilst wiping tears from her face and I bite my lip, my throat tightening with concern.

"Come on guys, don't stay in the corridor like that, I feel unloved !"

"Jack ?" I rush in the living room from which the voice came from, my heart beating fast in my chest. I have no idea why but something tells me that I'm not to like what's in that living room at all. And I'm right. "Oh my god Jack !" I fall on my knees at his side, grabbing his sweating hand in mine. "What happened to you ?"

My twin forces a stupid smile and shifts position on the couch where he's lying on his back, shirtless, half of his belly covered up in bandages. "Hey sis, how have you been since last –"

"Don't be stupid Jack and tell me what happened to you right now." I cut him, clenching my teeth. "What's all this ? What have you done ?"

"Hey, I haven't done anything !" He whines and I raise my eyes to heaven, annoyed by his stupidity.

I turn to my aunt and uncle, certain of the fact that Jack won't tell me until he's sure he's driven me irritated as hell. "What happened ?" They both share a look and I bite my lower lip in anxiousness and irritation. "Seriously guys come on, tell me !"

They stay quiet, though, and I must admit I don't understand at all what's wrong with them. I let my gaze wandering between their two worried faces as they stare at one another. I guess they're trying to determine which one of them is going to tell me. That's not good. None of them wants to, that's for sure. And so it means it's really, really bad. I know it. I feel it deeply in my bones.

They don't have to take a decision though, because Jack squeezes my fingers and I turn to him with a frown. Something in his gaze tells me that he's decided to be serious for half-a-minute at least. I'm not going to lose this opportunity. "What happened ?" I say again, quietly.

Jack makes a face. "Well, the thing is, it's not only one bad thing that happened, nor even two. It's, like, a whole bunch of bad news at the same time, plus the fact that you didn't answer your phone and we thought you were dead or something."

"Yeah right, I'm sorry, I guess I..." I stop as I search in my pockets and find nothing but my keys. "Well, I guess I just let it at Peter's house I –"

"Oh oh, Peter !" Jack cuts me with a huge smile. He then drops it for a falsely murderous look. "What were you doing there, young girl ?"

I bet my hat I'm red as hell right now. "What, no I, um, oh please Jack !"

"OK, OK, no stress sis, I was just kidding." He mocks me with a wink and I sigh. "Let's do it in a chronological way."

"There can't be that much bad news, right ?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"Stop questioning me and let me talk !"

"OK, OK, sorry. So ?"

"So. Ahem. First, it has been proved that I'm the most stupid guy on earth."

"Oh yeah ?"

"Shut up. I was in the city at around like, well, earlier in the morning –"

"Earlier in the morning meaning something like 3 am right ?"

"Exactly. And I, well, there was that guy who, um, well, anyway, he tried to rob me but I stopped him, we fought and then he stabbed me right in the belly and then I thought he was going to kill me but that guy, you know, Spider-man, showed up and tadaaa I was saved. End of the story."

"What the..." I stare at him, absolutely suffocated. "You've just been stabbed and that's how you speak about it ?"

"Um, yeah ?"

"Jesus, there's something very wrong about you, Jack." I shake my head in disbelief. "Mom must have dropped you on the ground or something when we were babies."

"Ha. Funny." He says with sarcasm. "Anyway, there's no need to make such a big deal about it because I'm alright. The doctors said none of my vital organs were touched, so everything is OK."

"If you say so." I mutter, shaking my head again even though I must admit I'm kind of thrilled by the fact that Spider-man saved my own brother. What a coincidence. "Next bad news ?"

"Um, let me think... Oh yeah, Dad called."

My heart falls in my chest and I stare wide-eyed at my brother. "Dad ?"

"Yeah." There's a mix of anger and concern in Jack's eyes, something I've never seen in his gaze before. "He got hurt earlier in the week. Shot in the leg. But that's not that bad. He doesn't even need to come back to get treatment or anything." I let out a little sigh of relief and Jack squeezes my fingers again. "He also asked about mom. I had to lie and pretend we were still in Scottsdale."

"Did he believe you ?"

"Nah, don't think so. Still, I tried. But I guess, all he wanted to know was if we were together, you and I." He pauses for a second, and I know exactly what he's going to say. And I'm right. "You should call him one day, you know. I think he would love to hear you."

"Hm."

"You could tell him about Peter, you know." He adds playfully and I raise my eyes to the ceiling with a sigh – and a blush. I look away from him just to realize our aunt and uncle are gone. I look back at Jack, questioning him with my gaze, and he makes a face. "They were awfully worried, you know. First me, then Dad, then you who seemed to have disappeared. And there's also that thing about Uncle Miles."

"What thing ?"

"Apparently he's been attacked in his lab at the ESU. Luckily, nothing happened to him, but his assistant died in the fight."

"You serious ?" I bite my lip when the face of Anthony Serba appears in front of my eyes.

"Yeah. He called this afternoon to say everything was alright for him, but when Uncle Ray asked him what happened, he refused to say anything and hung up."

_Everyone who has been in this lab at least once died in the previous 24h, except for Miles Warren. This means you're the next one on the list._

I freeze and Jack frowns in concern. "Hey, you OK ?"

"Um, yeah, yeah I... It's just, well, everyone seems to die, currently." I mutter with a nervous laugh.

"Somebody else died ? Who ?"

"A girl I've met at the ESU. Gwen Stacy. She died last night." I try to look casual but Jack is not a fool when it comes to what I feel. He always knows when something's wrong. It must be because we're twins, I guess. I avoid his eyes as mine fill with tears.

He brushes past my cheek and nods. "Yeah, I've heard about her. She's the one who's been thrown of the Brooklin Bridge right ?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you knew her."

"She was one of Peter's friends."

"Oh." We stay quiet for a moment after that, and for some reason there's nothing at all in my mind for the whole moment. I can't feel anything. I don't think anything. I'm just staring at Jack's hand covering mine. I know he's staring closely at me, and I know he's wondering what's going on in my head. I guess I should absolutely tell him 'nothing'. I wonder what's going on in _his_ head. I wonder if he wonders what's between Peter and I. I wonder if he wonders if I wonder if I love him. That's when I realize there's, in fact, something going on in my head. And at the same moment, Jack opens his mouth again. "Anyway, that's all for today, folks."

I let out a little laugh and look back at him expectantly. "No more bad news ?"

"No more bad news." He nods.

"We should call back Aunt Julia and Uncle Ray, then."

"Nah, let them the time to cook some wonderful things for dinner." Jack retorts and I raise my eyes to the ceiling again. "I'm starving."

"Of course. You're _always_ starving."

"Hey, I've just realized I'm not immortal, I _need_ to eat as much things as I can before I have to die !"

"Hmmm."

* * *

Later that night, I find myself in Peter's arms and I must admit I'm glad to be there. I've spent my whole dinner reassuring my aunt and uncle, then Jack and I watched some cartoons, just as we used to do when we were little. It's past 1 am when my brother finally fell asleep, and I covered him with a blanket before going back in my own room. And now, here I am, curled up in Peter's arms, listening to his heartbeat. I didn't have to wait long for him to show up. As soon as I stepped in my room, he was there.

We stay quiet for a moment, then I tell him everything. About my brother, about my dad, about Uncle Miles and about Anthony Serba. Peter does nothing but holds me tighter after that, and I guess I finally fall asleep because when I open my eyes, it's 9 am and Peter's gone. He's left a note beside me though. Saying that he had to leave, but that he'll pick me up later on the afternoon if I want to go to Gwen's funeral. I freeze while reading the note, and one tear escapes from my eye before I shake my head and decide to move on.

Today's Saturday, my uncle is lazing in front of a stupid TV show when I show up in the living room. It suddenly occurs to me that he knew Gwen – even more than I did – and I sit next to him, pretending to watch the thing when actually I'm trying to find an appropriate way to ask him if he knows. When I finally find the guts to mention her death, he just nods, clenching his teeth, and my heart seems to break in my chest. Then I ask him if he wants to come with me to her funeral and he nods again, his gaze still on the screen, and I know he tries to hide his grief to me, so I straighten in, telling him something stupid about getting some breakfast and reach the kitchen without a glance behind.

I call Peter and tell him I'll come at Gwen's funeral with my uncle and he says with a weird voice that we'll meet there, then, before hanging up. After lunch, I go in my room and try to find an appropriate outfit. I'm crying my eyes off when Jack knocks at my door. He hugs me tight, tell me everything's gonna be OK, then Uncle Ray calls me and we're off. The only thing that crosses my mind as we make our way to the church is that I really need to see trees, right now. I guess I should go for a walk in Central Park, tomorrow or next week. Yeah, that would be great. I should bring Peter with me. I can't help but smile while imagining Spider-man swinging from tree to tree. That would be funny. I should call him Tarzan next time I see him.

_Don't call him Tarzan right now, you dumb. It won't be _appropriate_. _

Oh, well, I guess the little voice is right. I lock eyes with Peter as I get out of my uncle's car. He's all in black and is holding his sobbing aunt by her shoulders. I can't say if it would be appropriate of me to go talk to him. I'm suddenly awfully aware of my resemblance with Gwen – maybe because of the way some people are staring at me right now –, and my heart seems to be stuck in my throat. Peter waves at me, though, and I take a few steps in his direction, my uncle following me. When I reach him, he just hugs me tight and I try to look as brave as I can when I meet his shining eyes.

I couldn't tell what happens next. I'm somehow stuck in a strange state, just as if I was observing things happening from the clouds. The only thing that I'm truly aware of is all those people crying around me. I'm crying too, I guess. My uncle does too. I can't see Peter, because he's in the front row with Mary Jane and Gwen's family. I think it's better. I'm not sure I would have managed to stay calm if I had been with him. No, I definitely wouldn't. Then we all step outside, following the coffin, and they put it in the grave alongside with her father's, and only then it occurs to me that she's truly gone. Gone, for ever. My body starts shaking all over, but my uncle grabs me by my shoulders and I calm down and get back into that strange world of clouds and sobs and silence.

I only seem to wake up when I meet MJ's gaze. She's staring at me aggressively, a few steps away from me. My uncle is nowhere to be seen. Same thing for Peter. The funeral seems to have come to an end. Or so I guess. I have no idea what's wrong. Up until MJ starts screaming at me.

"Why are you here ?" I choke at her words and suddenly she's right in front of me and pushes me hard. "You didn't even know her !"

"Mary Jane, easy, that's not Em –"

"Oh shut up Peter ! Just, just, just shut up, you have no idea how hurt Gwen was when she, when you..." She's crying, struggling on her words, screaming at him with despair and anger. I stay still and when she turns to me, I make no move as she pushes me again. "And you ! You shouldn't be here, you're not her, how could you even thing you had the right to be here ? You should be, you should be ashamed of, of, of everything, that's not –" She calms down as quickly as she had grown angry. I don't even see it coming. All of a sudden she's there, hugging me tight, sobbing, trembling, and all I do is hugging her back, my heart breaking painfully in my chest.

And for some strange and unknown reasons, the despair of the little voice in my head seems to trace exactly that of MJ.

* * *

"You OK ?" Peter asks carefully as we make our way back to the street, leaving behind us Gwen's grave. I glance at him but he's staring at his shoes, hands in his pockets. He hasn't been making full eyes contact with me since the incident with MJ, and I know that her words are still tingling in his mind.

"Think so." I nod weakly, staring at him. "What about you ?" He just shrugs and then catches my fingers in his. I shiver but stay quiet and we remain walking without a word until we're back on the street. My uncle is waiting next to his car and I feel suddenly awfully self-conscious when I meet his gaze. I don't have the time to wonder what he thinks, though.

Peter holds me back and I hold my breath as his gaze catches mine. "I'm sorry." he says after a while, and I must admit I have no idea why he's sorry. I can't help but worry and it must be visible because he quickly adds with a weak laugh : "For what MJ said, I mean."

"Oh." I bite my lip and my eyes fall on my shoes. "Don't be, don't be sorry, she didn't think it, she was just... um."

"Yeah right." He nods, squeezing my fingers to force me to raise my eyes again. "But she shouldn't have –"

"That's alright Peter, really." I cut him with a smile. He stares at me both in disbelief and irritation, but he must somehow realize that I'm not lying and his face relaxes a bit. We stay quiet for another moment and I lose myself in his deep brown eyes up until I remember my uncle. I shake my head to wake myself up. "So um, you're going back in Queens ?"

He smiles with amusement at my obvious discomfort and shrugs. "No, back at my apartment next to the ESU. Finals are almost there."

"Oh yeah right." I nod. Then it tickles me. "Hey, I didn't know you had an apartment !"

"You know nothing about me, girl." He retorts in a fake mysterious voice that makes me laugh. "What about you ?"

"Going back home I guess." I say, glancing in my uncle's direction. "Do you want us to drive you there or –"

"Nah, that's OK." He shrugs again, clearing his throat. "I guess I need to clear up my mind you know. There's only one way I can, right now."

With those strange words, I have no idea how I manage to guess what he's talking about. But I do. I smile and take him into a hug before I – or the little voice – can stop myself. "Swing then, Spandex Boy."

He lets out a little laugh and wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my hair. "Sure. Be careful OK ?"

"Yeah, you too."

"Sure." We stay like that for a moment then he releases me and takes a step back, his gaze locked in mine. He seems to doubt for half a second then kisses me softly and I can't help but smile into the kiss. "See you then, Stevens." Peter says with a wink, taking another step back.

"Sure." I nod, and I know my cheeks are red as hell, right now. He lets out another quiet, amused laugh, and starts walking away. "Don't do anything stupid !" I exclaim before I can stop myself. I have no idea why but something tells me that next time we'll meet, things will be even worse than they already are.

He half-turns and frowns, before retorting with a mocking voice : "Nah, don't worry, that's not my style ! I'll be careful, I promise !"

"You'd better be." I mumble and he laughs again. I wait until he's disappeared at the street corner to move again. I make my way to my uncle's car, where the latter is still waiting, but before I sit in it, something catches my eyes and I freeze.

It's a poster. A simple poster, plastered on a tree. A poster like we can see everywhere, in every street of a big city. A poster like there always are in the Westerns we used to watch with my dad, Jack and I. Except that it's not a man with a hat that is pictured on it, behind the well-known 'Wanted for questioning' label.

It's the masked face of Spider-man.

* * *

**(Reviews are lovely, by the way !)**


	17. Chapter 17

__**Yo, guys !**

**Here's chapter 17 (can't believe we're already that far !), sorry for the delay !**

**Hope you'll like it, enjoyyyy ! :D**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

"Miles was there."

"What ?" I raise my head, surprised, and stare at my uncle. His own gaze is fixed on the road, his face somehow neutral, but something, in his posture, in everything, tells me that he's concerned. "Uncle Miles ?" He just nods and I bite my lower lip, feeling a bit ashamed that I missed him. "I didn't see him."

"I talked with him when you were with Peter." He exclaims casually, and I can't help but blush.

"Oh."

"He didn't seem really OK."

"Did he ?" My uncle just shrugs and I narrow my eyes as his concern becomes more obvious. "Well, I guess it's normal, after what happened." I say after a while, still staring at him.

He shrugs again, his gaze still focusing on the road. "He seemed _insane_."

"Insane ?"

"Yeah. He thought you were Gwen. He told me he loved you. I think..." He pauses for a minute and I keep staring at him, frozen. "I think he needs help." We stay quiet for a moment after that, until he stops the car in front of the house and turns to me. "I invited him to dinner this evening, but I don't think he'll come."

"Oh Uncle Ray..." I grab his hand, my heart breaking in my chest. "Everything's gonna be alright, OK ? Just, just leave him the time to deal with, with Gwen's death and all, I'm sure he'll be OK after that. It's just a matter of time."

"Yeah, you're right." He opens his door and gets out of the car and I do the same, wondering if he even heard what I just told him. He seems elsewhere, and I must admit it freaks me out a bit because I've never seen my uncle like that before. But I guess I'm wrong and he perfectly heard what I said because as soon as I've closed the car's door, he takes me into a hug and I hug him back, burying my head in his chest. "I love you, Em."

"I love you too, Uncle Ray." I mutter with a sad smile. He releases me and smiles back, his eyes shimmering behind his glasses, both with sadness and warmth. We start making our way to the front porch, but just as I open the door, he catches my hand and holds me back.

"I'm happy for you and Peter. He's a nice guy."

"Oh." I blush. "Yeah. Yeah, he is."

"And a _lucky_ guy." He adds with a wink. I flush even more and look away, and he lets out an amused laugh before closing the door behind me. As we show up in the living room, we find a sleepy Jack in front of the TV and I can't help but laugh.

"What are we gonna do of him uh ?"

"I'm not asleep, I'm not asleep !" The latter exclaims at the same time and my uncle and I burst out laughing. "Yo, what's up ?"

"Nothing much really." I say, shaking my head as I make my way to the couch and sit down next to him. "What about you ? You getting better ? What are you doing ?"

"Where's your Aunt ?" adds Uncle Ray and Jack makes a face.

"Don't question me like that !" He mumbles, and we laugh again. "She's in the kitchen. And I'm OK. And I've been watching, um, that gentleman expatiating about, uh, the harms of Spider-man ?"

"The harms of Spider-man ?" I take a look to the TV's screen and freeze. It's an interview of an explosive man with a flattop haircut, a mustache and a cigar. He seems somehow hyperactive and angry and a bit crazy, too. His face reminds me of someone, though I can't say who, right now. "Who's that guy ?"

"J. Jonah Jameson." says my Uncle with a frown. "The Daily Bugle's editor. He has a grudge against Spidey since ever."

"Seriously ? Why ?" I ask, as I remember Peter told me he's been working for the Bugle for something like six months.

"Nobody really knows." Uncle Ray responds with a shrug. "I guess he's a bit jealous of him. Plus, Spider-man overshadowed his son once, a few months ago, and Jameson isn't someone who forgives easily."

"He's actually trying to prove that Spidey killed Norman Osborn." says Jack in a fake casual voice. "He's been found dead in a street, you know, with some web and –"

"Spidey didn't kill him !"

"Yeah sis, I know, easy !" My brother frowns. "There also were some of that guy's bombs, you know, the Green –"

"The Green Goblin, yeah."

"The one who killed Gwen." adds Uncle Ray, his eyes fixed on his knees.

"Yeah." I swallow hard, looking away from the screen.

"He's dead right ?" asks Jack.

"Who ?"

"The Green Goblin."

"Don't know." I shrug, and my twin stares at me for a moment with a strange look. "What ?"

"You seem scared as hell, Em."

I am scared as hell, and I don't even understand why. The only thing I want right now, is to see Peter. Speak with him about all this. Warn him about Jameson, about the Police, about everything. But I guess he already knows all that. I don't know if I'm allowed to call him or not. "No, no I'm OK, don't worry. I'm just... exhausted."

"Go take a nap." Uncle Ray offers and I smile weakly.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna do that." I nod after a second, standing up with an apologetic smile. "See ya later guys."

"See ya, Em. Have nice dreams of Peter !" my brother exclaims and I sigh.

"And Em ?"

I turn to my uncle, who's staring at me with a sad smile, still seated on the couch. "Yeah ?"

"Everything's gonna be alright, OK ?"

I bite my lip as tears threaten to overflow. "Sure." With that I leave, and I know the two of them are going to worry about me for the whole afternoon. But I can't pretend I'm OK anymore. At least not right now. I'm too tired to play a part. I don't take a nap that afternoon, though. I lock myself up in my room and make some research about J. Jonah Jameson. Apparently, he's offering a reward to whomever detains some information about the mask vigilante. That's when I start worrying a lot. So I decide to send Peter a text. A simple text. Hoping he won't get mad at me for it.

'Please, be careful.'

After that, I wait. I laze on my bed, try to watch one or two movies, but my mind is elsewhere. Wondering if Peter is OK. Wondering what would have happened if Gwen was still alive. Wondering where Peter is, right now. Wondering why I am such a coward. Wondering why I didn't save Gwen. Why I didn't tell the Goblin I was Gwen. Wondering if there's ever been someone as selfish as I am. Wondering again and again and again if Peter is alright, because if he's not, I must as well end my days right now because it won't be–

_Here he is !_

I raise my head from my wet-with-tears pillow and stare at my half-opened window, but Peter's not here. I lay down again, thinking something like 'Hey, for the first time you're wrong, little voice.' and the latter immediately retorts bitterly :

_Of course I'm not ! Here he is !_

And just with that, there's suddenly a soft knock on the door and I straighten in, my heart pounding hard in my chest. "Who's there ?"

"Hey, hey it's me, it's, uh, Peter ? Can I come in ?"

"Peter ?" I jump of my bed and open the door on Peter's startled face. Behind him, there's Jack, who's looking at me with huge eyes, just as if he was trying to look furious. No need to specify that he only looks stupid. "What are you doing here ?"

"I was, I was, um, I just wanted to make sure you were, uh, OK ?" He's staring at me with a mix of concern, expectation and amusement, and I must admit I've no idea what's going on in his head right now.

'How in hell did you know he was behind the door ?' I ask mentally the little voice while smiling at Peter.

_I know everything._

"Oh, OK." I nod, not even sure if I'm talking to Peter or to the little voice. "Come in then." He doesn't need to be told twice and steps in my room quickly, seemingly a bit cramped. I meet my brother's gaze and frown. "What's up, bro ?"

"Nothing, _sis_." He mumbles and I can't help but giggle. "Have fun." He adds after half-a-second and I let out a growl of fury.

"Go away, you stupid boy !" I snap, then slam the door on his face. I hear Peter's laugh behind me and turn to him with a frown. He immediately drops the amused face and anxiously bites his lip. "What ?" I say in surprise.

"Are you, are you OK ?"

"Yeah, yeah I am, why, what's –" He frowns in disbelief and I pause, well aware of the fact that whatever I'm going to say, he won't believe me. "I'm just, well. It's the whole thing, about you and Gwen and Jameson and –"

"Jameson ?" Peter cuts me, and I sit on my bed with a sigh.

"He's offering a reward to whomever knows something about Spider-man, you know." I say without looking at him. I already know what he is going to say. I guess it even before he opens his mouth.

"Oh yeah, right." He nods, sitting next to me, and I'm sure he's shrugging right now. "Don't worry about that, Em, that's not the first time."

"Promise me to be careful, OK ?" I retort, raising my head to stare into those deep brown eyes I love so much.

"I promise." He nods, and I know he'll be. He's _always_ careful. Problems never come from him. They come from the others. We stare at one another for a moment, and I know, as usual, that he's trying to figure out what's going on in my head. I guess I'm trying to figure it out, too. Maybe I should talk about that little voice to someone.

_Bad idea._

Of course.

"Do you want, um, I mean, if you, if you have something, something that worries you or scares you or anything, something you wanna talk with someone, you know I'm here, OK ?" Peter says after a moment, and I can't help but smile genuinely at him because God, he's so cute. And kind. And smart. And perfect.

_Focus !_

"Sure." I say, nodding quietly, both to Peter and the little voice. "I just, well. Sometimes I feel like I'm turning crazy or something. But that's OK, you know. I mean, no that's not OK if I'm turning crazy but I, I can handle it. I guess." I shake my head and make a face, my eyes resting on my knees, avoiding Peter's gaze for some unknown reason. Maybe because I'm not of that kind of people who complains to others.

"You don't seem crazy at all." points out Peter and I let out a little laugh.

"Oh well, thank you."

"No, I'm serious. You're just, well. We're all a bit... moved, by what happened you know, and I guess you would be crazy if you weren't. That's... natural, see ?"

"Thank you, Peter." I mutter with a smile, and he raises an eyebrow in surprise.

"Why are you thanking me ?" He asks with a frown.

I chuckle – for no reason – and shrug, looking away. "I don't know, for being... you ?"

"You're thanking me for being me ?"

"Um, yeah ?" That's his turn to chuckle and I make a face, my cheeks getting red as I meet his gaze where shine amusement and what seems to be tenderness – whoa. "Geez, I knew I shouldn't have said that." I mumble after a while, as he doesn't seem to respond anything.

"Oh no, that's great, that's nice !" He says keenly and I can't help but let out a little laugh – without even knowing why. "Well, thanks you for being you, then."

"Bah, don't feel obliged to say it if you don't mean it." I grumble, and he immediately looks insulted, which causes a strange twist in my stomach.

He catches my arm and forces me into a hug, retorting into my hair : "Of course I mean it, you dumb." I giggle like an idiot, either because of his compliment or because of the sudden feeling of his body against mine, and we stay like that for a moment, listening to each other's breathing. "Do you know what's the first thing I thought that Friday night when we met ?" He asks after a while, and I raise my eyes to stare at him, my head still resting on his shoulder.

"I don't know, 'Oh my God, what a wonderful girl' or something like that ?" I tease him and he slightly shakes his head, an amused smile painted on his lips.

"Nah, that was later."

"Oh oh !"

"Shut up, you moron." He cuts me and I take a fake insulted face that makes him laugh.

"So, what did you think ?" I ask after half-a-second, because I must admit I'm kind of curious about it. No, not kind of. Absolutely, deeply curious about it. He lets out an amused laugh, just as if he knew how thrilled I feel about what he's going to say.

_You're pathetic._

"Something like, 'Geez, I'm making a fool of myself, again.'"

"Oh." He laughs and I laugh with him, because I somehow feel stupid. I don't know what I was expecting. Something deep and lovable, maybe. The little voice is right. I'm pathetic. And cheesy. Hell yes, I'm cheesy. Peter's still laughing – at me, I'm sure of it – but I stay quiet, waiting for him to stop with a patient, amused smile. I've no idea why I don't stop him. Or perhaps yes, I know. I stay quiet because it's somehow unbelievable to hear Peter laughing right now. Yes, that's why I stay quiet.

"Then of course I thought 'Oh my God, she's perfect, I want to be at her side for the rest of my life !'" Peter says after a while, trying to keep a straight face, but somehow it seems hard.

"Liar !" I retort, sticking my tongue at him, and he laughs again.

"Are you one of those girls who believe in love-at-first-sight ?" He asks in a fake casual voice and I can't help but raise my eyes to heaven, this time, because it's so obvious that he's making fun of me, again.

"Not really. Since the first thing I thought about you was something like 'What _the hell_ is this ?'"

"You love me ?"

"No, I hate you, that's why I allow you in my bedroom when I could be doing so many more interesting things with my life."

"Like what ?" He's smiling, playing with me, just like we always did before everything happened. I didn't think I would see him like that so early. I thought things would be hard for a moment before we'll get back to 'normal'. Seems as if I was wrong, again.

"I don't know, sleeping ?" I shrug. His hand squeezes my waist and I shiver.

"Sleep then, little girl." He mutters in my hair and I bite my lip at his deep, unusual tone.

"I won't, I'm too scared of you."

"Are you ? Well that's something !"

"Just kidding, you're not scary at all."

"Of course not." He teases me and I giggle. I can almost feel his smile as his lips brush past my forehead. I freeze and he lets out a little laugh. "Easy. I'm not going to eat you."

"You'd better not. My brother would avenge me if you do." I declare, trying to sound as serious as I can, even if my heart is pounding hard in my chest right now.

"I'm sure of it, yeah." Peter laughs. "He sounds a bit... protective, back when I introduced myself."

"Seriously ? What did he say ?" I ask, curious.

"Bah, he just stared at me and frowned for almost five minutes before letting me enter." Peter says, and I burst out laughing. "What ?"

"Nothing, it's just, well. He must have thought you were going to eat me or something, if he let you in."

"Do I look that much like a cannibal ?"

"Absolutely." I nod and he falsely mumbles for a moment, like a child who's been refused an ice-cream or something. "You've saved him you know. My brother." I say after a while, and Peter nods, his cheek brushing past my hair as he does.

"Yeah I know."

"That's funny."

"Hmm. How's his belly going ?"

"Good. The doctor said he'll be recovered in something like a week."

"That's great."

"Yeah."

We stay quiet for a moment, then :

"I'm glad I fell at your feet, back to that night."

I smile with affection as he holds me tighter against him. "I'm glad, too."

* * *

**Here ! Please, please, review, it would mean so much to me to know what you think about it !**

**Also, thanks a lot, mellon nin FlameOfUdun, for your review, I read it with Gandalf voice in my head and that was amazing ! :D I'm glad you like Emma and my story as well ! :D**

**Oh, and also I wanted to know, what's your favorite chapter so far, guys ? :D**

**See yaaaaaaa lateeeeeer ! :)**


	18. Chapter 18

_Meet Spider-man_

"_Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream..._"

"Why on earth are you singing that, Jack ?"

"I have absolutely no idea, Emma."

"Where's Peter ?"

"What ?" I raise an eyebrow at my Aunt, surprised. "He left a few hours ago, why ?"

"Oh, I thought he was staying for diner."

"Yeah, _that_ would have been great." mutters Jack with a sadistic laugh and I sigh.

"He couldn't. It's almost finals time now, you know." I say after a second, even though Peter didn't leave at all because he wanted to study.

"Oh, that's right." My Aunt nods, mixing the vegetable soup absentmindedly.

"And anyway, isn't Uncle Miles supposed to come tonight ?"

"That's less than sure." retorts Uncle Ray casually.

But I know he's still worried. I grab his forearm and squeeze it gently and he smiles, a weak smile, but still a smile. I open the mouth to say something, but my beloved brother beats me up to it.

"Why are we eating soup, anyway ?" He grumbles, and I can't help but smile to his childish face.

"Because of you." Our Aunt replies with a frown. "The doctor said you'd better eat liquid food for a while –"

"Come on, liquid food ! I've eaten a whole bunch of chips for lunch !"

"Have you ?! That's not –"

She's cut by the ring at the door and I'm not exaggerating when saying everybody freezes at the sound. We exchange worried looks before my uncle stands up and leaves the kitchen. It can only be Uncle Miles. That's what the little voice whispers into my ear. And she's right. Jeez, I should probably talk to someone about that 'seer' I have in my head. I hear my two uncles' voices in the corridor, low and somehow quiet. I meet my Aunt's gaze and she makes a face at me. I don't have the time to wonder why, though.

Uncle Miles shows up in the kitchen and I gasp. He immediately turns to me and I hold my breath, biting my lower lip, my body suddenly all tensed. I've never seen him like that. He seems to have lost at least twenty pounds, and gained twenty years. Pale skin. Dull hair. Wild eyes. His shoulders are hunched, he's not smiling. In fact, I guess I understand completely what Uncle Ray meant when saying _he looked insane_.

Because he does, right now.

I know sorrow can wreak havoc, sometimes. I know it can break someone as easily as you break a wooden stick. Still, there's something strange going on here. How could Uncle Miles be possibly _that_ broken by Gwen's death ? There _must_ be something else. Unless...

_He was in love with her._

Yes. Something tells me that the little voice is right, again. Miles Warren was in love with Gwen Stacy. And now that she's dead, he's devastated. I feel my eyes fulling with tears as the man stares deeply into my eyes, and I know a crazy hope is rising in his heart as he observes me.

_You should dye your hair brown._

"Gwen ?" he mutters, and my heart slowly breaks – for the hundredth time these past days, it seems – in my chest. "Gwen, is that you ?"

"I'm not Gwen." I croak, and at the same moment Jack catches my hand in his.

"Miles –" starts Uncle Ray, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Leave me alone !" Uncle Miles retorts keenly and I'm positively sure that everyone in the kitchen takes a step back as he does. Jack slowly makes his way to set himself between me and Uncle fantastic Miles, and I must admit I feel a bit relieved. The man seems lost for half-a-second, then he takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "I'm sorry. Don't, don't worry about that, I'm alright. I'm, I'm sorry Emma."

"No problem." I breath, and Jack squeezes my fingers in his. Uncle Miles grins at me and somehow it diffuses the tension in one second. Still, my heart's beating fast in my chest and I'd give anything to run away from him.

The rest of the evening goes on well, though. Peacefully. Quietly. Uncle Miles is himself again. With less vitality and humor, but nothing to do with the ghost-lunatic-zombie he was when he entered the kitchen. He's making efforts. Or so that's what I thought until I meet his gaze at one point, when nobody's looking. His crazy, creepy gaze. That's when I get sure he's completely insane. I see it in his eyes. He still thinks I'm Gwen. He still wants her.

He still wants _me_.

That's one of the most terrifying thing I've ever realized in my entire life before.

_Tell Peter._

That's what the little voice mutters me as we all stand in the corridor to say Uncle Miles goodbye. He gently hugs my Aunt, shakes hands with my brother and uncle, then it's my turn. I shiver as he wraps his arms around me, and it's as if my whole body was screaming to me to run away. But I can't. There's nothing gentle in his embrace. Nothing desperate, like I'd anticipate. No, it's more like a promise. A strong, painful promise.

"I'll have you, no matter what."

The words slip in my ear just like death slips in old hearts, and I freeze. I'm not even sure if he actually says them, or if I've just imagined them. I step back in haste and he lets me go, smiling gently, just as if nothing had happened. I'm on the edge to burst into tears, though. I lock myself in my room as soon as he's left. I hide under my blankets, shivering, trembling, my heart beating like crazy in my chest.

_Tell Peter._

This seems to be a very nice idea, indeed.

* * *

"Hey !"

"Oh, hey Peter."

"That's all you have ?" He scowls and I scowl back, even though the fact that he's _that_ close to me right now, is somehow making my heart race.

"Yes. You're late." I mumble, looking away, and he lets out a little laugh.

"Yeah, right. Sorry about that, car chasing, you know what it's like." He shrugs, and that's my turn to laugh, because God, he's so stupid. And cute. And geez, I'd really like to kiss him, right now.

"Well, no I don't, not really." He laughs again and I smile, forgetting for a while about the whole Uncle-Miles-is-crazy story. We stare at one another for a moment, then he kisses me on the cheek and I can't help but blush, half-relieved and half-disappointed. Which might be obvious because his mischievous smile appears on his face and then his lips are on mine, for just one second, but it feels fantastic, and I know I must be red as hell after that. "Ahem. So, um, we should go."

"Sure." Peter chuckles and we start walking, and Gosh I'm sure he can hear my heart drumming in my chest. We stay quiet for a moment as we make our way to one of Center Park entrance, then I suddenly realize something.

"I've never been on a date before !" I regret my words as soon as they've escaped my lips. Geez, I'm so stupid. Peter burst out laughing and I blush, cursing myself without even needing the little voice to do so. "I mean, um –"

"Seriously ?" He cuts me, still giggling, and I frown.

"I, well, yeah."

"That's weird."

"Why ?"

"I'd thought you were an expert on that kind of stuff." he explains with a shrug, trying to look serious, but irremediably failing.

"Why ?"

"Dunno, it's just, well. You're kinda cute and all, so, well."

"Oh." I bite my lip, wondering if it's an attempt at a compliment or something. "Um, thanks ?"

He winks and I shiver, wondering what the hell is happening right now. Are we seriously flirting ? Geez, that's weird. "So, um, do you wanna eat something ?" Peter says after a while, and I must admit I'm kind of glad that he changed the subject. "Before we start that lesson."

Oops. I had forgotten all about that skateboard lesson. In fact, my mind was so occupied with worried thoughts when Peter called me this morning to 'ask me out' – whoa ! – that I'm pretty sure I didn't register half of what he said back then. He must have mentioned that lesson as a reason to see me. I guess. Geez, I shouldn't have put those shorts. What if I fall and hurt myself ? That's perfect, really perfect. What a great satisfaction to be myself. I turn to him and catch his smiling gaze. He has no idea what's going on in my head, right now. How lucky he is. "I already have, thanks. My Aunt didn't let me go without feeding me."

"That's what aunts do." He nods, and something tells me that he knows better about that. It's not that hard to imagine his aunt May doing exactly what my own aunt does all the time. "OK, let's start then."

I make a face without even meaning to. "Um, I'm not sure it's a great –"

"Are you scared ?"

Oh well. Who's screwed now, uh ? "No, no of course not, but –"

Peter lets out an amused – and annoying as hell – little laugh. "But ?"

"Well um..." I take a deep breath and the little voice sighs in my head. "I didn't, well, I didn't sleep much last night so –"

"Did you ?"

Sometimes, I really hate that guy. He's all smiling and giggling when I'm struggling to find a decent reason why not to skateboard today. It's not that I regret to have asked him, of course not, but today's not the right day. To me. I guess. I'm not even sure why. Maybe I'm just a coward or something. I don't know. "Yeah, I did, I mean, I didn't, I, uh."

"Why ?"

"I was, I was– Jesus, Peter !"

"Whaaaat ?"

"You're impossible." I retort bitterly and he laughs again.

"Thanks." He winks and I raise my eyes to heaven. "OK then, what do you wanna do ?"

"I don't –" I let out a tired sigh before realizing how dull I must sound right now. "I don't know we could, we could um, have you ever, you know, swung from tree to tree ? Here, I mean."

Peter opens his mouth to respond, but then he seems to get what I just ask and frowns. "What ?!"

I giggle like an idiot and shrug. "That's something I've been wondering for a while, actually."

"You're weird."

"Thanks. But that's not an answer. So ?"

"I'm not, I, well, seriously, that's a weird thing to wonder, Emma ! Are you insane or something ?" He asks, shaking his head with his mischievous smile on.

"No, I'm not, thank you." I say curtly. "And that's not weird at all, as a huge fan of Tarzan, it's not –"

"A huge fan of Tarzan ?" He bursts out laughing and I sigh again – without being able to hold my smile, though. "Yeah, I see. Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I've never tried, no."

"That's sad. You really should, to my opinion."

"Hmmm..."

I stick my tongue out at him as he shrugs and he pretends to look annoyed by my childish behavior – which he obviously isn't since _his _behavior is way more childish than mine. Sometimes. We stare at each other for a moment, and I suddenly wonder what other people think when they see us like that. I mean, I'm not someone who's totally into appearing perfect to anyone who's watching me – the thing is, I don't really care what people think about me – but right now, things seem a bit different. I don't really know why. Maybe because I've suddenly realized I do care about what Peter thinks about me. And so somehow I want to be perfect, and so therefor what people thinks starts to matter. I guess I'm not making myself clear, right now. I'm not even sure I understand completely what I'm trying to say, actually.

_Gee, you're crazy._

'Thank you, little voice in my head', I think, smiling to myself.

"So, is that what you wanna do ?"

"What ?" I shake my head to wake myself up and Peter gives me a mocking smile before saying :

"Play Tarzan and Jane ?"

"Aha. I don't, I mean, um, if you want yeah, that would be f–"

I don't even have the time to end my sentence. The next thing I know, I'm flying in the air, Peter's arm wrapped around my waist, and I cling to his shoulders, gasping, smiling, laughing. It only lasts for half a second – seemingly – and then we're seated on a branch, right above the lake, and I clench harder Peter's hand, for some unknown reasons. He lets out a little laugh and apologizes quietly.

"It's not as easy as it seems." he affirms after a minute or so of silence, and I make a face to hide my smile. "Branches aren't as solid as buildings."

"Seriously ?"

"Stop mocking me, please." he mumbles, and I laugh. After that, we stay quiet for a moment, admiring the view in front of us. Peter's hand is tightened around mine, and I must admit I'm glad of it. Remember my vertigo ? Well, we're quite high, right now. But it seems approximately OK for my stupid inner ear, I guess, since I'm not fainting or anything. The only thing to do is, avoid looking down. Since the view from where we are is awesome, it doesn't seem that hard to do. The lake, the trees, the skyscrapers behind, Peter's hand around mine, everything is perfect.

_You daughter of a cheese._

What a wonderful way to alert me I'm getting too cheesy. I'm so glad to have that little voice in my head. It's so refreshing.

_Focus ! Here's coming an important question, you dumb._

"So, why didn't you sleep well, last night ?" asks Peter at the exact same time.

"Oh, well." I take a deep breath as my body tenses of itself, either because of the question or because of the little voice's prediction. All this is starting to get really, really freaky, if you ask me. "It's just, well. My uncle Miles visited us, last night, and well."

"Miles Warren ?" Peter says, as I don't seem to continue.

"Yeah, Miles Warren." I nod, avoiding his gaze without even knowing why. How am I supposed to explain what I felt back then ? What did I feel, anyway ?

_He's insane._

"Insane ? What do you mean ?"

Oh shit. That's the second time the little voice expresses herself and I can't help it. Shit, shit, shit. If it wasn't for the whole Uncle-Miles-is-crazy thing, I'll be scared as death, right now. "Yeah, I mean, he's just, he thought... he thought I was Gwen."

"Oh." Peter bites his lower lip and looks away, and I feel my heart tightening in my chest as he does.

"Yeah. Even after I told him I wasn't, well, _her_, he still thought I was. And when he left, I heard something, I'm not, well, I'm not sure he actually did say that but..."

"But ?"

"I heard him saying that he'd have me, no matter what."

"He'd... have you ?"

I simply nod, staring at the smooth lake surface, wondering what he's thinking right now. Peter, I mean. Not the lake. I'm not sure lakes can think.

_Focus !_

"Well, that's a bit insane, you're right." Peter says after a while. "Who else knows about this ?"

"Just you." I answer, raising my eyebrows, surprised. Why would I say that to anybody else but him, anyway ? He's the one who's a superhero, after all. I must admit I can't really boast about how many superheroes I know personally. Who can, anyway ? I turn to stare at him, waiting for an answer.

He seems to just have been run over by a truck or something. I don't have the time to worry, though. He drops his profoundly wounded face to a just slightly concerned one, and I have to blink one or twice to be sure I haven't been dreaming. "Well, I guess you'd better stay away from him, then."

"Sure, yeah." I nod, frowning. "Are you OK ?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm alright, don't worry." He assures with an awfully fake smile. I bite my lip and he looks away, well aware of the fact that I don't believe him. I say nothing, though. He doesn't seem to want to speak about it at all. Something tells me it's about Gwen. I'm not pretty sure of why, but I can tell it. And so I stay quiet. And as I feel his fingers tightening around mine even more, I know I've made a great decision.

We spend the rest of the afternoon saying nothing, or talking about non-important things. It's a quiet afternoon, a simple one, a peaceful one. I find myself thinking more than once that everything is perfect. I must admit I'm happy as hell, right now. I should call Olive. I can't help but imagining her reaction, and as I laugh by myself like an idiot, Peter asks me what's that funny, and I have no choice but explain it to him. He pokes fun of me, obviously, and then it's time to go.

He brings us back on the ground and we start making our way out of Central Park, hand in hand. He drops my fingers as soon as we're back on the street, but I keep smiling like an idiot, because why would I stop ? We walk for a moment in silence, but it's a good silence. A calm one. Then Peter says something stupid – as usual – and we start arguing like two toddlers over whether or not there are more gray cars than colored one, or stuff like that.

It lasts for the entire way home. Then Peter drops his mischievous smile for a serious face and I know it's goodbye-be-careful-please-see-you-soon-I-promise' time. "So." he begins, and I can't help but laugh, and he looks at me daggers, as usual. "Stop giggling like an idiot, please, I'm trying to be serious OK ?"

"Sure, sorry sorry." I nod, staring at my shoes, grinning from ear to ear. "So ?"

"Why are you always making light of things, uh ?"

"I'm not making light of things." I retort, raising my head to meet his gaze. He scowls and I scowl back, and a mischievous spark lights up in his brown eyes.

"Of course you're not." he nods after a moment, wrapping his fingers around mine. "Just, be careful, OK ?"

"Sure, I'm always careful."

"And stay away from Miles Warren."

"That's definitely something I can do."

"And, if anything happens, just call me OK ? If he shows up here or anything, just –"

"Don't worry, Peter."

"I'm not worry !" I raise my eyebrows and he scowls again, beating his feet against the ground. "OK, maybe a little but –"

"I'll be alright. Now is it my turn to make recommendations ?"

"I don't think so, no." he retorts with his mischievous smile and I make a – fake – annoyed face.

"Whatever. I don't need your permission anyway."

"Yeah, I'm quite aware of that." He says with a fake sigh.

"Be careful OK ?" I answer back, kissing him slightly on the lips. This seems to surprise him as much as myself and he smiles lightly, his fingers tightening around mine. I read in his eyes what's he is going to do even before he starts bending over me. His lips meet mine and we kiss, and it feels fantastic, and I'm seeing stars, and then I retreat because I don't want to turn insane. Peter's eyes gently open and his face, his goddamn cute face is as if he was just awaking of a long, long sleep. I can't help my smile and he smiles back, genuinely, quietly, and I must admit I'm almost dying because of everything. Everything about that guy. "Now off you go, Mister Spandex ! And until our next meeting, _au revoir !_"

* * *

**Geez guys, I'm so, so deeply sorry ! It's getting harder and harder to write, with all the work and stuff, and I'm so sad and JESUS CHRIST there's no word to describe how much I'm sorry for the long, long delay ! Please forgive me...**

**Thanks a lot for all your reviews, you all are perfect ! And to the poor reviewer who got attacked by Loki, all I want to say is "LOKI ! YOU SON OF A GOAT DON'T YOU EVEN THINK OF STABBING MY READERS !"**

**Hope you liked this chapter, I honestly don't know when I'll update the next one, but I promise, on my life and Loki's, that I'll try to update it as soon as possible !**

**And so, dear readers, I love you with all my heart, have a great day/night, and don't forget to tell me what you thought of that lil' chapter ! :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey there !**

_**[ERMERGERD SHE'S ALIVE !]**_

**So, first thing first, I am SO, SO, SO, SO SORRY ! I had told you it was difficult for me to find the time to write, and so that's why it's been so long since my last chapter. I am deeply sorry, and so, in my desperate search of forgiveness, here is a long, long, looooooong chapter ! :D**

**Hope you'll like it ! ^^**

* * *

_Meet Spider-man_

"Dad."

"Emma ?" I stay quiet, well aware of the fact that he must have already been told _who _was on the phone. It's not as if tons of people were calling him everyday. Our family isn't of the big kind. And besides, even if we are twins, I'm pretty sure that my voice doesn't sound _at all_ like Jack's. Speaking of voices, my father's seems clear and a bit moved. And stiff. As usual. Dr Stevens' voice. His military one. I can't really say why it's disappointing me like that. The only sure thing is that it definitely does disappoint me.

The little voice doesn't react, which somehow surprises me since she has been very active lately. In fact, I haven't heard from her since I made the decision to call my father.

_Poor decision._

Oh, there she is.

"Hey, hey hon." says my father at the same time.

I take a deep breath, brushing past my fingers on a picture of Lily, Jack and I when we were younger. "Hey dad."

"How's it, what's, how – how are you doing ?" He's hesitant, cautious, just as if he was worried he could get me angry.

"I'm doing... great, what about you ?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm, I'm glad to finally get to talk to you." He pauses for a second and I can't help but feel a bit guilty. My dad's very gifted when it comes to make you feel this or that way. He has always been. "It's been a while, hasn't it ?"

"Yeah right. Sorry about that."

"I told Jack I'd like to hear you."

"I know."

"Sounds like my prayers have been answered, eventually."

The little voice is getting angrier, and I have to bite my lip to be sure to avoid to say out loud what she's yelling at my dad. Those two never got along well, for some strange reasons. I'm not really sure why. "I'm sorry dad, I got really busy with, you know, the graduation and all that, but now it's over, so that's why I'm calling you."

"I know hon, I know. I wasn't trying to make you feel guilty about it."

_Indeed._

Oh please little voice, just shut up, please, just for this time, I beg you, please.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself, what are you doing ?"

_Speaking with a trait–_

Shhhhhh. "Um, well, I've been at Uncle Ray and Aunt Julia's place in New York City for the past few weeks, so that's pretty awesome, you know. I'm sure Jack told you about it."

"Yes, he also mentioned a guy named Peter, am I correct ?"

"Of course he did." I mutter with a face. My brother's an idiot. Remind me to kill him right after this call ends.

"And ?"

"Uh, well. I met Peter at, ya know, the Empire State University where I'll be going in September."

"Jack told me you major in biology ?"

"Yeap."

"That's nice. I'm proud of you, Emma."

"Thanks dad."

Pause. I know what he's going to say even before I hear him taking a deep breath. "So, tell me a bit more about this _Peter_."

I bite my lip, mentally insulting Jack. "Oh, well. He's, great, you know ? I kinda like him." As he stays quiet, I know it's not enough. I resist the urge to ask him if he wants me to send him Peter's curriculum vitae or something and say instead : "Plus, Uncle Ray knows him. He was his teacher back when Peter was in High School."

"How old is he ?"

"One year older than me." Stay casual, Stevens, you can do it.

"Which is ?"

"Come on, dad !"

"I'm just asking, honey."

"Nineteen."

"Hm."

He doesn't approve. Of course he doesn't. He's never liked any of my friends, back when we were still at Scottsdale. Same thing with Jack's friends. He's always been like that. So why would he like Peter ?

_But do you care ? Do you need his approval ?_

No, I don't. I don't, really. And it feels truly awesome to realize that. A smile lights on my face and somehow it seems easier to breath from that point until the end of the conversation. Which is a relief. Because God, I love my dad, but he's somehow the most annoying guy on earth when it comes to boys. Geez. Then he asks me about university, and tells me that he has to go, but that he can't wait till my next call. I promise I won't take as long as I did to call him, then it's over. I meet my own gaze in the showcase of the shop I'm sitting in front of, and it's not really a surprise to see the tense grin on my face.

Damn, I'm so glad I've survived this call.

Peter's going to be proud of me.

Speaking of him, where is that goddamn boy ? He was supposed to meet me at our usual meeting point at six, and it's almost seven pm. now. I'm not worried. I'm just slightly annoyed. Peter isn't one to forget a rendezvous. But he definitely is one to be late. He never notices time flies by when he's in his spandex suit. Right now, he certainly is in a dark alley, protecting someone against two or three villains at the same time. He doesn't even suspect he's late. As soon as he realizes it, he'll set off and in ten minutes he'll be there, with his apologetic gaze and his mischievous smile. He'll probably say sorry a good dozen times, then he'll catch me by my waist and we'll leave silently in the night, and when we'll land, he'll apologize once more, and I'll raise my eyes to the sky and kiss him to stop him.

I can see the whole scene clearly in my head, and it makes me smile.

That guy's so stupid. And awesome.

It's been two months now since Gwen's death. Peter still has some moment when he seems to be really close to give up, but those moments are less and less frequent now. I still catch his sad face, when he's looking at me and thinks I don't see him. There are still times when he suddenly freezes, and I know that's when I've done or said something that reminds him too much of Gwen. But things are getting better. We spend most of our time together. We've set ourselves in kind of a routine, and that above all things is what help him the most, I guess. The stability of our existence. The extreme similarities of what we're living, days after days.

Some nights, he allows me to come with him during his patrol. I love those nights. I've stopped to count how many times I've wished I was like Peter. Once I even wondered out loud how much it would cost to buy a radioactive spider to get bitten. He had immediately scowled at me and made me promise I would never ever try to do such a thing. First I had pulled a grumpy face, but as he had insisted, I finally did promise. I had at least understand one important thing about him, that night. Peter never treats his power as a gift.

He always treats it as a doom.

I've learned to quit worrying about him, though. He knows what he's doing. He's not a fool. He's careful, he's strong. It didn't take me too long to realize it. To realize I could trust him.

It feels so good to know you can trust someone. I couldn't help but smile when it happened. There isn't that many people I can genuinely say I can trust. Jack is one of them. Same thing with my aunt and uncle. Lily was one of them, too. And Olive maybe is, even though it's been a long time since I've seen her. My mother isn't. My father... I don't really know.

But I don't care. I guess I'm already lucky to have so many people to trust. To love.

_You seriously think you can trust him when he's one hour late ?_

Shut up, little voice.

_At your service, dumbass._

I let out a little laugh and she grumbles inside my skull, about how stupid am I and stuff. As usual. I let my brain wander around, wondering what we'll be up to as soon as Peter is there. He talked about a diner or something. To celebrate the fact that my first picture of Mister Spandex has finally been published. Yeah, because I'm a well-known photographer now ! Well, almost. The thing is, last time Peter took me on one of his patrols, I decided to bring my camera. What for, you may ask. Well. To take pictures you know.

_You don't say._

To have something in memory of those nights in patrol with Mister Spandex.

_L I A R._

Anyway. When he saw it, Peter was first somehow annoyed for I hadn't asked him if I could bring it or not. Then he came up with an idea. He said I could probably help him. Make his job easier. He told me he usually took pictures of himself as Spider-Man and then sold those pictures to the Daily Bugle – you know, the newspaper of that crazy guy who wants Spider-Man off the streets (and dead too, I guess). He then admitted that it wasn't the easiest thing to do – taking picture of oneself, I mean – and that I could be very useful, if I wanted to.

There's no need to tell you about how overjoyed I was to say yes.

So, yeah, now I am Mister Spandex' photographer. What a pride. Peter and I both agreed to keep my identity secret – seriously, that's really amazing to say, don't ask me why, but it just feels as if I was a super-hero, too – and to share the benefits of the picture I would sell in the future. Something like, 1/3 for me, and the rest for him. Either he would give me the money, either he would – like he's supposed to do today – invite me on a kind of _date._

A date-but-not-a-date.

I mean, I don't think Peter and I ever date. It's not like this, I guess. We're just... Well. I don't really know exactly what we are, if we're a couple or what. And I think he doesn't know either. Which could be quite strange, but well, it seems okay with the both of us so... I mean, we _do_ kiss sometimes – rarely, I must admit, which is really sad, I think. And when we do, it's always like, in a hidden place, on a rooftop, at the bottom of a bridge tower or some impossible places like those. But it's fine with me. Because it gives our kisses something, I don't really know what, a thing I'm sure I would never ever feel with another boy. Because, Peter's different, that's for sure. He's not just a boy. He is so much more.

But I would never ever admit that out loud.

Our kisses are special. I'm not ashamed to say that. Everything is special about this boy. Not just because he's a super-hero crisscrossing streets every nights in a spandex suit. Our whole relationship is special. Special in a good way. I mean, things could be better. Of course they could. But being what they already are, I guess they can't really improve anymore, now. I am happy. Peter seems to be, too. There are bad days as well as good days, and that's what makes life, isn't it ?

I think so, yeah.

Everything has been calm and peaceful for a whole good week. Today as well.

So you can easily imagine my surprise when I'm being kidnapped. I must admit I'm completely overwhelmed by everything. I don't even try to defend myself or to call for help. Nothing. Shock holds me during the whole thing.

But how could I even brace myself for _that_, anyway ? Being kidnapped in the opened street, I mean. I couldn't, right ? Neither could Peter. Maybe our routine had us to let our alertness go down a bit.

But anyway, let's go back to what's happening. Remember ? I am in the middle of a crowded street, waiting for Peter to show up. And then suddenly, BAM, explosion. What, Emma Stevens, you're not used to those things now ? You've spent almost three months in NYC and you're not used to explosions occurring in the middle of the street like that ? Shame on you, right ?

Trust me, you never, ever get used to these things. I've been the co-worker – _invisible_ co-worker in fact – of Mister Spandex for about two months now, and trust me, I am at two hundred percent sure I am never ever going to get used to that. How could I ?

And, as this particular explosion occurs like, two feet away from me, you can't possibly blame me for what I should have done but didn't, because goddammit-this-is-a-freaking-explosion, that's why.

I don't really have precise memories of what happens after that. After the explosion I mean. I fly in the air, and then I hit the ground, OUCH, my head hurts like hell, this is awful. In between coughs and groans, I manage to raise myself up on one elbow. A dark smoke is surrounding me, my eyes fill up with tears. I know I have to move, to stand up and run away, but my muscles don't seem to answer to my brain anymore. And anyway, my brain is a complete mess right now. My skull is pounding with pain, I know I must have a concussion or something.

Peter. I have to find Peter.

_Too late._

This thought comes up too late in my damaged brain. I flinch as a green face appears in front of me, and then something hits me hard at the base of my neck and I black out, my last thought being something like "Geez, Peter's going to be so mad at me if I don't show up at our rendezvous..."

* * *

_Wake up !_

"Wh-what ?" I open one eye and close it back asap, because holy god of spandex who on earth is stupid enough to light up a room like that ?! I mumble in my beard for half a second and then I wake up completely – or actually, my brain does.

And I start to freak out.

Because where the hell am I ? Why am I tied up to a freaking chair ? Who on earth is that guy who's talking to me, from somewhere on my left ?

He's saying things I don't understand. Did he drug me ? Seems possible, since my brain is foggy as hell, just as if I was at the top of the highest building of New York on a rainy day.

"Who – who are you ?" Whoa. Was this my voice ? Damn, what on earth has happened to me ? My eyes are opened now. I don't even remember I opened them. This is seriously creepy.

A dark form draws towards me. The green face appears again in front of me. But not green like the Goblin. Green like, whoa, his freaking _skin _is green. Covered with scales. If I could, I would take a step back to escape from that awful thing, with its large ears and creepy yellow tooth smile. But I can't. Because I'm tied up to a chair, remember ?

"What's all this, where am I ?" I manage to choke out, my heart pounding hard in my chest. The green thing is way to close to me now. He is just staring at me, his eyes wide and crazy and scary and holy spandex just as if they were waiting for something to occur in my stare, just as if they were trying to read into my thoughts and destroy them.

Which is impossible since there's absolutely no thought in my mind right now. I'm sure I've been drugged. My brain has never been that empty in my entire life before – whatever Jack says. Something tells me that the little voice is not to come back before a long, long time. I'm not quite certain if it's a relief or not.

The question isn't here, though. The question is, what am I supposed to do now ? I've been kidnapped by a freaking green skinned guy. I have not idea where I am. I've been drugged. And I have to go back to our meeting point because if I don't, Peter's gonna be furious at me.

. . .

Peter ! He'll find me and rescue me, that's for sure ! Great. Now all I have to do is wait. And hope that that green guy isn't about to kill me or torture me or eat me or I don't know what. If so, then I'd have to play for time. That's something I can do, definitely.

He doesn't seem to be willing to do any of those things, though. I'm almost disappointed by it. If he was threatening my life, at least I would do something to save it, waiting for the moment when Spider-Man'd arrive. But no, nothing. Great. Nothing but this game of I-stare-into-your-eyes-quielty-just-as-if-I-was-a- status-or-something. Maybe if I blink, he'll kill me. I don't know. The only thing I'm sure of is that my kidnapper is both scary as hell and ridiculous.

Let's talk.

"What d'you want ?"

Nothing.

"Where am I, please, what do you want from me ?"

Nothing.

"C'me on... Who are you ?"

"Don't you recognize me, young girl ?"

BINGO. "Um, no I–"

"No you don't, of course." His voice is rasping, low, and my stomach does a back-flip in my belly. "Guess what, it is because of you that nobody can recognize me anymore."

"Because of – what ? What are you talking about, who are you ?"

"Because of you and your little friend the spider..."

My whole body tenses and the green guy lets out a quiet, crazy, disturbing, awful laugh that makes me shiver. "What do you mean ?" I breath, my heart racing into my chest.

"I am Miles Warren." the creature mutters in a dark, croaked voice.

I stay quiet, mouth wide opened, shocked. My so-told uncle takes a step forward and I close my mouth, in both disgust and pity. And horror. What on earth is going on down here ?

"Yes, it is me, Miles Warren, the eminent biology professor of the Empire State University." this thing carries on, and its words have an immediate effect on me, threatening me to throw up. "Look at what I've become, look at what you've done..."

"I don't know what you're talking about..."

"Yessss, you know, dear, you know what I'm talking about." he retorts, his eyes – surprisingly familiar now – sparkling in the light of the room. "You did this to me, you did this, you and your precious friend Peter, you two did this to me."

"I didn't–"

"You didn't help me !" He cuts, screaming his head off, and I jump on my chair, and all I wanna do now is get away from that thing, get away from it, disappear and never see it again. "You didn't help me." he says again, in a calmer voice. "When I needed you the most, you didn't help me. He told you to stay away from me, he told you I am dangerous, but I am not, I am not. I will never ever hurt you Gwen, I promise..."

Gwen ? Oh damn. Now I know what this is all about. My heart seems to break into my chest and I close my eyes, to stay away from that crazy, madly-in-love-d gaze that's fixed on me. "I'm not Gwen." I then mutter, eyes still closed, and I feel a tear rolling down my cheek as I do so.

"Of course you are." he quietly says, just as if he was worried for my mental health or something. "He worked hard to make you believe you're not Gwen, but you are, trust me, you are..."

"Who–"

"Peter Parker of course."

That guy is crazy. Definitely crazy.

"He knew the Green Goblin would sooner or later use you as a bait and probably kill you to hurt him. So he came to me and asked me to help him _clone_ you."

What the hell ?! "What–"

"Your clone died back to that night on the bridge. It died, but then Peter took you away from me, because he knew I was going to tell everyone the truth. Tell your family the truth. The truth that Gwen Stacy is not dead. The truth that you _are _Gwen Stacy."

"You're lying." The words come out of my mouth as a reflex, just as if I was _made_ to say that – or so that's how it felt, actually. I have no idea what's going on here. All I know is that I want to run away from everything that that guy will ever say. What is Peter doing, where is he, goddammit ?

"No, I am not."

"This _is_ impossible." I retort, shaking my head, an unbearable, uncontrollable fear growing into my chest. "I'm not Gwen Stacy, I'm Emma Stevens, there's nothing–"

"Emma Stevens is nothing more but an invention, a lie supposed to keep the Green Goblin away from you."

"It can't be, it can't be, my brother, my parents, Lily–"

"Inventions. Actors. Actors Parker pays to pretend they are your family."

"This is bullshit !" I exclaim with anger, and I don't really know why. Perhaps because his words are moving me more than I can handle. Perhaps because I can't really find a reason _why_ it couldn't be true. But I've been drugged. My brain cells are messed up. That guy's crazy, that's all. He glances at me, startled, and I take a deep breath before carrying on : "It _is_ impossible, Jack _is_ my twin, my dad _is_ my dad, and Lily _is not_ here anymore. And nothing has even been invented to clone human yet. I don't know who you are, if you are Miles Warren or not, but I know at least one thing : _you are lying_."

It's his turn to sadly shake his head and I can't help but frown angrily. "My poor, poor baby, all these things he did to you, with my help... But don't worry, I can save you. I can, and I will save you, I promise. But first thing first, I have to kill Peter Parker."

"No !" Now fear is rushing in my heart so keenly that I almost feel as if I was about to faint. "You can't, please don't –"

"You can't stop me now, Gwen, he deserves to die, he truly does. And I am the only one that has the ability to kill him."

"Why, why would you do that ? Please, just–" A sudden, glorious, wonderful idea emerges in my terrorized mind and I take a deep breath, gathering courage. "Let me talk to him. Let me talk to him, I'll convince him you're not dangerous, and he'll let you go. But please, don't hurt him. If you hurt him I–"

"I'm not going to hurt him, I promise."

I stare at him, startled, then frown in disbelief. "But you just said you were going to _kill_ him."

"I will. But there will be no pain, I promise."

Ermahgerd. This guy is crazy. I resist the urge to scream at him and take another deep breath. "I see." The guy is crazy anyway. I wonder what he'd say if I told him the pain would be for me if he kills Peter. Maybe I should try this. Remember ? I have to play for time. Peter's going to find me, there's no doubt of it. Mister Spandex is going to find me and save me. All I have to do is distract the green guy. Talk to him. Talk to the crazy thing that pretends to be my Uncle 'fantastic' Miles. "Well then I, I appreciate that, thanks."

"You're very welcome, Gwen."

Ew. Was this a _wink_ ? Was this a freaking _wink_ ? Ew, ew, ew. Peter, just, just hurry up, okay ?

_Play for time._

Oh hay _Petite Voix_ !

_Focus ! Talk to him. Ask him for details about that cloning thing. And don't be a moron, for Christ's sake !_

"So..." I begin, wondering where on earth I am going. "Um, you told me I've been cloned but... how is it possible ? I mean, no one ever invented anything that–"

"I did. I invented cloning. Human cloning. With the help of the oh-so-smart Peter Parker."

"But why, why would he do that, I don't understand, there's no–"

"Because he's selfish, so selfish, my poor, poor baby, I'm so sorry..."

Now he's put his face in his hands and his green shoulders are shaking. I take it as the opportunity to watch everywhere, looking for a small sign, anything, that would claim the eminent arrival of Mister Spandex. But there's nothing. We're in a huge room, with gray floor and gray walls. There's nothing that could help me guess even a little where we are.

_That's not important._

Okay then. "So, how is it working ? I mean, if I'm not the cloned one, then why is it that I have no memories of being Gwen Stacy ?"

"He erased those memories of your brain. See, he knew how strong my feelings were for you, and so when he explained the risks you were enduring because of the Green Goblin, he knew I would accept to help him. He used my lab, my science, and me, to generate a human clone of you. The Gwen you were back then wasn't aware of that experiment. We were supposed to implant souvenirs of your life in your clone, and then hide you somewhere." His face is still in his hands, and I wonder what his eyes look like, right now. Full of tears, I'm almost sure of it. "But Parker had decided otherwise. I realized it too late. I realized too late that I – we – had been fooled. Using a creation of his own, he implanted fake souvenirs in _your_ brain, erasing your other souvenirs, souvenirs of your old life. He created this girl, this Emma Stevens, but I knew better. I knew she was nothing but you. You _are _Gwen Stacy."

Yeah, sure. "But, what happened to the clone then ?"

"Parker gave it your souvenirs and it went in your family. Your real family. But I managed to persuade him to put you in my own family, with my brother and his wife, thinking that, therefore, if there were any problem, I'd be close to you. Even closer than Parker would."

"Then the clone died."

"Exactly. It died, but when I went to Parker and asked him to tell everybody the truth about you, he refused. He went angry and threatened me. I knew his mind was sick, sick because of that power of his, and so I did not say a thing. That's where is my mistake. I should have killed him back then. Because when I went to see you, it was too late. He had already told you to stay away from me. He also had my own brother and his family to gang up to me. Lies, so many, so many lies. Your clone was lost. And so were you. But not anymore. I am well intended to delude the webs of lies he has been weaving for all these months ! Do you understand now ? I am your hero. I am going to save you from him Gwen, I am, I promise. No more lies, no more lies, I promise."

Unbelievable. The strength of human's mind. I can tell he is sincere. Sincere at two hundred percent. He believes truthfully what he just told me. He is not lying to me. Or at least his mind doesn't lie consciously.

Because, all this can't be true, right ? There are too many things that miss in his tale. Too many things that can't be.

Right ?

There are also things that match with that freaking tale. And not just one small, insignificant thing. For example the little voice. Why would I have a little voice in my head if it was not because somebody played with my brain in the past ? Also the fact that that voice hates my father. Why would she, if it weren't because he is _not_ my father ? And the fact that my mother doesn't speak to me anymore ? And that easiness with which I connected with Peter, almost at first sight ? And how I foresaw the fact that he was Spider-man ?

But no, that's stupid. That's stupid and impossible because there's Jack. My twin. I feel safe with him. I feel real with him. He is my twin, that's for sure. There's no need to think deeper about that fairytale. The guy is freaking crazy, and that's all folks.

I can't help my next few words though, and I hate myself for that. "But, why would he do that ?"

"Because he is selfish, my Gwen, Peter Parker is selfish. He wants to keep you for his own. He doesn't care if others are hurt, all that matters is that you are with him, forever. I read into his mind. He is crazy. You are his. He wants you. There's no coming back. And so that's why I have to kill him." He's nodding fiercely, his eyes fixed on mine, his face at less than two inches of mine. And I catch myself almost doing the same – which threatens to make my heart stop beating. "I have to save you from his selfishness. He doesn't deserve you. He never does."

"Oh, because you think you deserve her ?" Wind in my hair. "What a great way to show someone you love them : kidnapping ! I should think about it next time I have a date !"

* * *

**PLOT TWIST MWAHAHAHAHA**

**So, how was it ? :D Hope you liked it, I have no idea when the next chapter will be updated, but keep reviewing and following and all, you're all awesome ! :)**

**Bye bye my dear minions !**


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